


your sister introduces you to her friends and surprise: they are cute guys

by Beibiter



Category: GOT7, Kpop - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Reverse Harem, Romance, Slice of Life, Youth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beibiter/pseuds/Beibiter
Summary: your sister, a social butterfly, drags you to a party. you feel uncomfortable at first but that changes when a cute guy approaches you





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> isnt this the ultimate fantasy?? :-)

“Aren't you at least going to pretend that you're excited?” Your sister is perched before her vanity, lining her eyes with a black kohl liner. The line is thick and strong, making her look even fiercer than she usually does.

Your sister is almost two years older than you. You're a senior in high school, while she's in her second year of university. Character wise, you are polar opposites. She's sociable and outgoing. She likes to meet new people. She loves to make new friends. You, on the other hand, are more of a homebody, content with spending your day at home. Baking. Writing in your journal. Sleeping.

Well, sleep is not what you're getting tonight. In an attempt to foster the sibling bond between the two of you, your parents practically blackmailed your sister, talking her into taking you with her on a night out. The reward they promised is a new mac lipstick that your sister has been desiring for weeks.

Lying back on her bed, you stare at the ceiling. “I'm not excited.” And you aren't. The promise of being with other people that you don't really know. Probably stuffed into a tiny cramped apartment. Your parents promised that they would pick you up at twelve though, so you only have to endure it for three hours. 

Your sister rolls her eyes and stares at your denim skirt. “At least you're wearing something semi appropriate”, she sighs and stands up, looking at the clock. “Seulgi is gonna pick us up in a minute.” She gives you another glance. “You ready?”

You nod and stand up, too, straightening out the wrinkles in your skirt. You have your phone in your back pocket.

You both descend the stairs and then get your jackets. 

The ride is loud, but uneventful. Seulgi and your sister are gossiping about some girl who has dropped out of uni to become a model. You try your best to engage in the conversation, but you have no idea who the girl is, so you soon give up and stare out the window.

Soon, you drive up a path that leads to a large house. A mansion, rather, and you raise your eyebrows at your sister. She had said something about a “house party”, but nothing about the owner being so loaded. 

The three of you get out of the car. Seulgi and your sister are still giggling. At the same time you can hear the loud music from inside and exhale slowly. Your sister turns around, “You're gonna be fine in there right?” For the first time in the night Seulgi gives you an enouraging smile. “Don't take any drinks from strangers”, she adds.

“Jaebum's gonna be there, right?”, your sister asks, stopping for a moment. For the first time tonight you're interested. She didn't mention anything about a guy. 

Seulgi gives your sister a cheesy wink as if she knows everything about her and this Jaebum guy, “Of course!” 

Your sister quickly brushes her hair back with her fingers and then lightly slaps her cheeks with her hands, “Do I look okay?”  
“You look fine”, Seulgi answers. “Jaebum's gonna fall in love with you!”

Then the door opens and the smell of alcohol and something else hits you. You cough slightly and follow the two girls. They greet some people here and there, occasionally squealing and you soon find yourself at a group of chairs surrounding a table. There's a sofa, too.

“Hey girls!” You are welcomed with some shouts and catcalls. 

“You look so great!”, a girl appraises loudly. She is absolutely stunning herself, sporting long brown hair and pink lips. 

You stand there awkwardly, a bit overwhelmed with the sheer amount of people. It's feels like some sort of sensory overload: a dozen people talking at the same time and dozens of different smells attacking your nose.

You stare at your feet. Maybe this was a wrong decision. Maybe you should've stayed home. Your eyelids flutter and you hide behind your hand with embarrassment. When you've finally gained enough courage to peek behind your hands you notice a guy looking at you. You lock eyes for a second, before you look away. 

He's definitely handsome. Warm, honey-blond dyed hair. Fierce eyebrows. A somewhat stoic expression. An expression that is somewhere between aloof and bored. It's that kind of bored face that makes him look arrogant, like he couldn't care less about what's going on right now.

You shake your head, reprimanding your brain for being so judgemental. 

“Sit down, sit down!”, you hear your sister ordering. “Did mom and dad say anything about alcohol?”, she enquires and you shake your head, sinking down on the sofa.You're not 20, but neither is she and there's a cup in her hands already. 

“I'll guess, I'll take something”, you mutter, “But nothing too strong.”

She gives you a victorious smile and commands some guy to pour something into a cup. He holds it out for you, giving you a wink. 

Ignoring the wink, you take it, carefully moving it closer toward your nose. You take a smell. It's smells acerbic and stings your nose like something that you would use in an experiment in chem class. The difference is, you don't drink the liquids in chem class.

You look over the rim of the cup and find your stare drawn to the blond guy again. Looking closer, you're almost dazed by his beauty. There's a mole right under his eye. It gives him a somewhat cute look. 

As if sensing your thoughts, he finds your eyes and you blush involuntarily. You quickly look down at your cup again, a bit too close, and feel your eyes tearing up.

One sip isn't going to hurt, right? 

Throwing all your concerns for your liver over board you bring the cup to your lips. It tastes as bad as it smells.

You gasp slightly at the numb feeling of your tongue and look at the guy who gave you the drink. He's animatedly chatting with a short-haired girl. 

You lightly bite onto your tongue with your teeth. There really is no feeling. 

Suddenly, you feel someone's hot breath close to your neck, “Are you checking out Youngjae?” You turn slightly to see a pretty girl with black hair and really pale skin. She glances at you in her drunken stupor, but it seems as if she's seeing right though you. “He's a tough nut to crack.” She giggles and holds onto your shoulder. “I'm Wendy, by the way.”

Her eyes are glassy and you wonder for a second if she is going to remember any of this tomorrow morning. Then you put on a smile and give her your own name. 

“Are you Suyeon's sister?”, she then asks, squinting, “You two look pretty similar.”

“Yeah, she's my older sister.” You wonder if now is the appropriate time to take a casual sip from your drink, but Wendy interrupts your thoughts.

“So, are you twins?”

***

After enduring more mindless remarks from Wendy, you're finally a bit tipsy, having taken a sip every time she said something stupid.

You sure that she is a really nice person when she's sober, but you can't take her seriously when she's drunk.

You bring the cup to your lips again, only to realize that it's empty. You look at Wendy and mumble an apology, but she lazily waves her hand. 

The kitchen is half deserted and you throw your empty cup in the trash, opting to rummage through the fridge instead to look for some water. 

“Are you thirsty?”, a soft voice asks and you turn around with wide eyes. Caught. 

He's handsome. Blond hair that is almost white, a cool tone. Bright eyes that twinkle when they look at you. You nod.

“I was looking for some water”, you explain. It's the first time you're going to a party and you don't want to end it with someone holding your hair back while you're barfing out your intestines. The guy smiles a sweet smile and walks to a cupboard. He opens it, revealing an array of bottles. You read the label. Evian.

“I'm Bambam”, he says, grabbing one bottle. You can see his biceps under his dress shirt and quickly look away. He opens the cap and hands you the bottle. It feels cold. You mumbke a quiet thanks and take a sip. When you're finished, he's still looking at you.

“You wanna dance?”, he asks. He holds out his elbow for you to take like he's some chivalrous knight in a midieval setting and you laugh. 

“I haven't really danced before though.” It's a quiet confession. A confession that you're not really a partygoer. That you probably have two left feet.A promise that you're certainly going to step on his toes.

Bambam smiles, “We'll see.”

***

When something vibrates on close to your butt, you almost gasp. You take out your phone and motion to Bambam that you have to take the call. It's your mom.

You accept the call and quickly weave through the sea of drunk people on the dance floor to find a quiet spot somewhere else.

“Hey mom”, you mumble breathlessly, still feeling the dizzying high of having danced so much.

“Hello, my child! Are you having fun?” Her voice sounds cheerful and you check the time. Almost twelve o'clock.

“Yeah,...” 

“We just wanted to check up on you”, she adds. You hear your father on the other side of the line affirming it. “Is your sister still able to walk in straight lines?”

Last time you saw her, she was downing shots with Seulgi.

“I guess.”

Your parents guffaw. 

You smile. Your retinence probably gave you away. You're a bad liar.

“Well, please make sure that she putting on a coat, ok? We're gonna be there in a few minutes if your father manages to drive properly...”

They continue to bicker and then hang up. You put your phone back into your pocket and turn around. Bambam is standing there, looking at you, “You okay?”

You nod. Dancing with him had turned out to be much more fun than imagined. Moving your body to the rhythm was quite fun actually. While dancing you had also discovered that Bambam has way too much energy. Really. 

“Is your mom going to pick you up?”

“Yeah, but I have to look for Suyeon first.”

Bambam smiles at you, “Let me help you. I think I have a feeling where she might be.” Taking your hand like a matter of fact, he looks forward.

“Let's go.”

And Bambam's hunch is right. Your sister, though she's already hammered, is standing at the beer pong table. To her credit, she's not the one participating in the game. Insteadt she's cheering on a guy with wild hair and a shirt that is half unbuttoned.

You don't know whether you should feel embarrassed for him.

“Found her”, Bambam laughs and you cringe, wondering if your sister is like this at every party.

You let go of his hand and meander through the crowd until you've reached your sister. You tap on her shoulder and she turns around. “What are you doing here?”

You remind her of your “curfew” and she sighs. “That's what I get from going out with a minor”, she complains and you don't bother correcting her. 

“Where did you put your bag?”

She squints at you, trying to remember where she put her things. 

“I have your stuff.”

Bambam comes back with a bag and two jackets in his arms. Your sister grabs it from him and Bambam turns to your, holding your jacket open for you. His lips are pink and there's a thin layer of perspiration on his forehead from having danced so much.

“You are way too polite.” You slip into the jacket with embarrassement.

“I try my best.” He laughs at your misery and you look down at the floor.

“Thank you for tonight. I had fun. You made me dance”, you hesitate and bite your lip. “But it was fun.”

Your sister is staring at you and you give Bambam a quick glance, “I think we have to go now.”

“I'll see you off”, he says, catching your glance. His eyes are dark, so dark that you have trouble differentiating between his iris and pupil. A small, pleasant shiver runs down your spine and you take a breath.

“Ok.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow another chapter!!thanks for leaving kudos. It motivates me :-) in this chapter you find out more about the family dynamics and there's another party. Ohoh

Your sister doesn't wake up before noon next day. Thankfully, she didn't throw up, but she fell asleep in the car on your way back home and you and your father carried her inside.

When she finally comes down the stairs, you're already washed up and dressed, sitting at the dinner table with some notebooks and folders spread out. You have your glasses on, focusing on a work sheet about the citric acid cycle.

Your sister snorts seeing you with your glasses and then holds her head. She murmurs some incoherent curse words and walks into the kitchen, probably to get an aspirin.

"Where are mom and dad?", she asks from the kitchen. You hear the sound of the fridge closing.

You look up from your work. "They went out for a meeting. They'll be back a five, though."

Your parents can get really busy some times. Working. Traveling. In a way they probably thought it was good for the two of you. You would grow up to depend on each other. Truthfully, you both just mind your own business.

Your sister comes back with a half empty bottle and an aspirin. She's still wearing a frown and some mascara, that you couldn't get off last night, is clumped on her lashes.

"Have they bought the lipstick already? And why aren't you studying at the library?"

You give her and look as she takes a seat on a chair. 

"It's a Sunday." The library isn't open today and neither is the makeup store.

"Whatever", your sister sighs, popping the pill into the water. It sizzles as it dissolves, producing tiny bubbles.

You turn your head back to your work sheet, trying to focus on the intricacies of the citric acid cycle instead. 

***

When the subject of the party comes up at the dinner table, you stiffen.

"You had fun, didn't you?" Your moms nods encouragingly, putting a bit of asparagus onto her plate.

Everyone turns to you, expecting an answer. Are you finally done with being a hermit?

Stuffing a fork of chicken into her mouth, your sister sighs. "As if she's ever gonna change, mom", she says while chewing.

You ignore her and think back to the question. Fun. Did you have fun? Blond flashes in your mind. Hot and cold. You're reminded of a certain guy and your cheeks turn red immediately.

"I did have fun... I guess." You look at your mom remembering the way your feet hurt. Remembering the way he looked at you.

Your mom claps into her hands excitedly. "That's great! What about next week then?" She turns to your sister. "There is another party soon, right?"

The reaction of you and your sister are very similar. You both look at your mother in shock. Your sister's expression turns sour quickly.

"Mom, I'm not taking care of a toddler again." Her voice has a certain edge to it and you bite your tongue. 

"Suyeon", your mother reprimands. "You really ought to be a bit nicer. You sisters are barely doing anything together and I'd like the two of you to have a stronger bond."

Your sister snorts. "Obviously, you're taking the side of the baby again."

Your mothers eyes turn fiery and she opens her mouth, but your father puts his hand on her shoulder, assuaging her. 

It's true in a way: For whatever reason, your mother has always been a bit partial to you, favoring you over your sister while your father tried to give the both of you equal amounts of attention.

"Whatever." Your sister stands up and takes her plate. "I'm in my room."

***

When you're standing in front of another big house, you're almost one hundred percent sure that it's because of your natural inclination to do things that others tell you not to do. But there's another part of you that's yearning. Longing for someone. Ahh. You blush and roll your eyes. You're not here for him. You shake your head instead, blaming your coming here on your defiant obstinance. 

Your sister is standing behind you with a grim face. "Just don't bother me", she commands and you nod. 

You're wearing skinny jeans this time and a striped blouse. There's a loose thread and you pull it out before you look at your sister again.

"I'll get you when it's time to go home, ok?"

"Yeah..."

You repress a smile and stare at her. Maybe she does care about you after all. 

"I'm sorry", you apologize suddenly and her eyes widen before she turns around to fully face you.

"Whatever. Just don't come looking for me."

She flips her hair and struts to the door, pressing the bell. Someone opens it immediately and you recognize the brown haired girl from the last party. She looks even more radiant than before, wearing a low-cut top and dark pants. Her hair is up in a sleek ponytail and she gives you a bright smile.

"Suyeon! Come in you two!"

She gives you her hand. "I'm Irene by the way. The host of this party."

This time, you're prepared when you head inside and hold your breath for a second, before you inhale cautiously. The smell isn't as strong this time, but it reeks of cologne and sweet perfume. The house is dimly lit, a few colorful lights barely do anything to lighten up the room.

"You want a drink?", the girl asks, turning to you and your sister. "My parents filled the whole alcohol cabin before they left. I could probably throw ten parties with this much alcohol..."

She laughs and your sister nods, "Sure."

Irene turns to you expectantly. "And you?"

You hate to disappoint her, but you shake your head. "Thanks for the offer, though. I just want to look for..."

You don't finish your sentence, suddenly embarrassed, but Irene must have picked up on it, because she gives you a wink and enthusiastically grabs your sister's elbow. 

"Then let's go get drunk!"

You stare after them as the head to wherever Irene takes them. Your sister is already in a better mood, giggling and swinging her hips.

You hesitate for a second. Even though you tried to convince yourself that it wasn't him that you came for... The person you're looking for. The person you're here for. He's probably going to be on the dance floor, right?

Meandering through the masses of drunk young adults, you reject the drinks that are offered your way with a polite smile. You're not interested.

Then, you spot a head of blond hair. A smile forms on your lips.

He's sitting on a sofa. Alone. You can only see his broad shoulders and his back. He's wearing a dark t-shirt and you feel almost giddy. 

You come closer, still staring at him. 

Then he turns around and in a matter of seconds, your blood freezes and your heart seems to stop. 

The guy you've been sneaking up on isn't Bambam. The guy with nice eyes and a bright smile. The guy who made you smile until your gums hurt. Instead, you're looking into the bored eyes of someone else who is now staring back at you with an unreadable expression.

"I'm sorry", you stutter helplessly, caught like a deer in the headlight.The mole is still there. Youngjae. You remember his name clearly.

"I thought you were someone else."

You hastily apologize again and he finally looks away from you. You take it as a signal that you're forgiven and finally allowed to leave and quickly walk away as fast as your feet carry you. 

If there's one type of person you can't deal with, it's people like him. Ones that look at you and you can't figure out what they're thinking. Are they plotting your murder? Are they thinking of something nice to say? You never know.

When you look around again, you realize that you have somehow ended up on Irene porch. Or rather her parents. It looks expensive. Polished white wood. Flowers hanging from the wall. 

It's a bit cold, though, and you rub your hands together in an attempt to stay warm. Maybe you should head back inside. But it feels way too nice to be alone again.

You take a deep breath and make a funny face. Sniffing again, you shake your head. It smells like-

"You want one?"

Suddenly, a cigarette appears in your line of vision and you take a step back, nearly tripping over your own feet until a rough hand stabilizes you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

You turn around to see a guy with brown hair and pale skin. He has thick eyebrows, a sharp nose and a chiseled jaw. He also looks awfully familiar and you think you might have seen him at the last party. Maybe.

"No, no", you say hastily, your cheeks turning red. "I was just surprised."

He laughs silently and his eyes nearly disappear. It's somewhat endearing. When he opens his eyes again, he's staring directly at you.

"You smoke?"

"No." You shake your head and he fakes a disappointed sigh. "Wow, no one smokes nowadays", he jokes and looks at your blouse until his eyes land on yours. "You look way too innocent anyways. Is this your first party?"

You bristle at his words, puffing up like a blowfish and open your mouth to respond but then he laughs, reminding you of a cunning fox. "I was just teasing you."

You stare at him. Dumbfounded. Stunned by his directness. His weird sense of humor.

"You're probably right, though. I would never smoke in my life", you say after a second and look back at him. "And it's not my first party, but my second."

His mouth curls upwards at your explanation and you feel your heart thumping. Then, he puts out his cigarette in an ashtray and gives you his other hand. 

"I'm Jb."

You stare at his hand for a moment, confused. 

"You're supposed to shake it."

"Right." Your cheeks turn red and you quickly do so. His hand is warm, although it is cold outside. 

Then you hesitantly give him your own first name and wait for his exes to light up with recognition. But they don't. Realizing that you've been staring at him for too long, you quickly avert your eyes.

A few seconds pass until suddenly, a slight breeze hits you, sending shivers through your body. Immediately, there are goosebumps on your skin.

"Wanna head inside?", Jb asks and you nod, a small but pleasant shiver running down your spine as he smiles down at you.


	3. Chapter 3

You hear your sister before you can see her. She's sitting with a group of people, laughing loudly, leaning against a girl that you recognize from last time: Wendy. They are both holding cups in their hands, colorful bottles standing in front of them and their cheeks are rosy.

Jb looks at you, “You wanna get a drink, at least?” He gives you a mischievous smile. “For celebrating your second party?”

His eyes twinkle under the bright light and you give him a quick nod. A drink can't hurt, right?

Jb gives you a triumphant smile and motions for you to come closer and you're nearing the table where your sister is sitting.

You turn to Jb and cock your head. Are they friends?

“I bet you prefer something sweet, right?” Jb winks at you and it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. You place your hands on your cheeks and shake your head, “I haven't had that much to drink before... but I like the fruity stuff, I guess?”

His eyes glide over assortment of alcohol on the table, beckoning for you to come closer.

You step into the line of vision of your sister and her face darkens considerably and she turns to Wendy with a grim face, whispering something into her ear, before she looks at you again, putting on a bright smile. But she doesn't look at you. She looks right through you.

“Raspberry or strawberry?”

You tear your eyes away from your sisters unusual sugary smile ad stare at Jb.

“Pardon...?”

“You want raspberry or strawberry?” He holds up two bottles that look almost identical, save for the colorful labels and looks at you. Waiting. Smiling.

“Maybe strawberry?” You're not really sure. They're probably gonna taste similar, aren't they? It's alcohol after all meant to make you drunk, not taste good.

Jaebum takes in your hesitant face and indecisive voice and chuckles. “You weren't lying when you said you're inexperienced.”

You pout involuntarily and look at the floor. “Why would I?”

You hear the sound of shuffling and suddenly Jb puts a cup in front of your face with a red liquid in it. You stare at it suspicously before you take it, hold your breath and take a small sip. He didn't lie. It does taste sweet and you relish the taste for a moment before looking back at Jb again.

“It's good.” You smile.

Jb stares at you for a second. A second too long. A bit to intently. You bite down on your lip.

“I'm glad you liked it, princess.”

Your cheeks turn red instantly, making Jb chuckle. He must be used to flirting and picking up girls at different parties, but you're definitely not used to being hit on. You're not used to dazzling guys giving you compliments.

“Hey Jb, stop flirting!”, someone hollers from the sofa and you recognize the guy from the lat party, the one who poured you the drink.

Jb throws his arm over your shoulder and your blush increases tenfold. There's a shrill sound in your ears as Jb replies. It must be something witty, because everyone laughs and your eyes land on your sister. She's staring down at her lap and you frown. Did you being here really dampen her mood that much?

Suddenly, you feel like the worst sister in the world, like a cumbersome burden, an immature teenager who just desperately wants to hang out with her older cooler sister and her friends who look like supermodels. You rub your eyes, letting out a sigh. Maybe... 

“Hey, let's sit down, ok?”

Jb points to sofa. There's barely any space left, but you wiggle and squeeze until you end up pressed against him and he gives you a small wink. You feel his warm body against yours, thighs not even centimeters apart and you catch a whiff of his cologne. You're still dazed by his handsomeness until you feel something on your thigh and you look down. Jb has placed his hand on your thigh, resting it on your body.

The others around you are chatting animatedly, giggling and chattering. It's loud. Too loud and when someone opens another bottle loudly and everyone cheers, you feel your heart constricting in your chest. Your breath hitches and you feel uncomfortable and anxious. You have to get out of this situation. Now.

You quickly stand up and excuse yourself with an apologetic smile towards Jb. “I'm sorry”, you stutter an quickly walk away from the cramped space until you can finally breath again. God.

You lean against the wall, exhaling slowly with you eyes closed. You have left your cup at the table, but your phone is still in your back pocket. Should you just call your parents to pick you up? You glance at your watch and see that it's not even eleven o'clock. She would probably come, but it would be awkward to explain that you just panicked without a reason.

Your eyelids flutter and you think back to the last party. To feeling happy. To dancing with Bambam. Bambam. He hasn't appeared this night, even though he's basically the reason you came, though you can't blame him for that. You didn't tell him that you liked his stupid jokes and silly demeanor and his politeness-

“You need a ride home?”

A voice cuts through your thoughts, a voice that is both sharp and warm and you have trouble matching it with a face, so you open your eyes. It isn't someone that you would have expected and you stare at him with wide, unbelieving eyes.

Did Suyeon see you panicking? 

Did she send him?

Is she friends with Youngjae?

Youngjae doesn't wait for you to figure out your thoughts but heads for the door instead and you hesitate for a moment before you hastily follow him.

“Wait, wait...”, you mutter. “Did... did Suyeon send you?”

Youngjae doesn't turn around, but you can picture the indifferent expression he must be wearing.

“She should've told Bambam to bring you home.” He turns around and you end up staring right into his cold, brown eyes. “But he isn't here tonight.”

You bite your lip and stare down at the floor. It must be fate, right? You take Bambam's absence as your signal and weasel after Youngjae as he strides to an expensive-looking car. He gets in and you follow suit, getting out your phone to text Suyeon to thank her for organising your ride and to apologize.

After you're done texting, you keep your phone in your hands, still a bit cautious. Youngjae asks for the name of your street and you give it to him, still playing with your phone.

The rest of the ride is silent. You repeatedly try to think of something witty or smart to say, but your mouth feels dry and you feel like everything would come out as in incoherent ramble, so you just keep your mouth shut. Youngjae doesn't seem too intent of ending the silence, either.

Instead, he's staring straight ahead at the road and traffic lights, driving smoothly through the congested streets filled with late night partygoers and the unfortunate souls who still have to go to work. His slender fingers are holding the steering wheel and his breath comes out in regular rhytms. 

You lean your head against the seat and stifle a yawn when turns left, entering your street. 

He stops at the curb, right before your entrance and finally turns to you. His fringe is covering his forehead and you repress the urge of pushing it back. 

“Thanks”, you mumble and remembering the way your mother would scold you whenever you weren't being polite enough, you open your mouth again to repeat, this time clearly enunciated, “Thank you, Youngjae” and then you quickly get out before his cold eyes turn you to ice.


	4. Chapter 4

When you're sitting in class the next day, you feel as if you're seeing your own reflection. The other kids are playing with their phones under the table and secretly whispering when the teacher has her back to them.

Since yesterday, you feel as if you had a revelation, some kind of divine intervention that made you realize just how immature you are. The way that your sister and her friends felt light years away, even though they're just one or two years older than you, it really gnawed at your self-esteem. You now felt as though you were privy to some club, a secret association of people who had experienced what being an adult felt like. Somewhat.

You had apologized to your sister again, not really telling the truth that there was someone that you wanted to see again. No, you conveniently omitted that fact. Instead, you blamed it on your obstinance and offered to do some of her chores. 

You two didn't reconcile however, because your sister just gave you a fiery glare, something that she definitely inherited from your mom, and told you to leave her room. 

Sighing, you try to get rid of the happenings from yesterday that cloud your mind. You prop your head on your hands and stare at the front of the classroom, but you're not really looking at the differential equation the teacher is explaining right now, instead your thoughts go back to Saturday.

Jb's flirty comments. Youngjae's cold exterior and his warm actions. Bambam's absence from the party.

You shake your head and try to focus on the teacher again. School is definitely more important than boys, even when they're are handsome.

***

You're on your way home when your phone rings all of a sudden. You look at the screen and don't recognize the number. Instantly, the most horrible scenarios flash in your mind and you quickly pick up the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey. It's me, Bambam. You remember me, right?" You hear a laugh from the other side of the line and it makes your heart flutter.

"I got your number." He laughs. "I hope you don't think it's creepy, but dancing with you was fun..."

You stand still in the middle of the pavement, unable to say anything.

"Oh god, if you didn't actually like it, I'm sorry... I'll just..."

Bambam sounds dejected, like you just singlehandedly destroyed his spirits. You quickly cut him off, "No, no, I did like it. Too. I mean, dancing with you was fun."

Red blossoms on your cheeks and you wonder of Bambam feels as awkward as you do right now.

"Do you want to go on a date some time?"

The question knocks the air out of your lungs. Bambam sounds sincere and completely earnest and your heart aches, because even though you've thought about him so much, you're not really sure if you actually want this. This. Him. Going on a date.

You can hear Bambam clearing his throat and you curse your indecisiveness. Screw it. Then you quickly open your mouth and the words stumble out almost involuntarily, "I'd love to."

"Yeah!" You can hear Bambam cheering into the phone triumphantly, all sorrow gone from his voice. Your heart leaps to unimaginable heights.

Then, as if he tried to curb his enthusiasm, he coughs a little. 

"What about the movies?", he suggest. "We can see whatever film you like."

His voice sounds sweet. Considerate. You can imagine his handsome face, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Sure!", you breath into your phone. "I'd love to." Probably.

Bambam continues to make plans, asking you what day and time would be convenient for you, pausing every time to make sure that you're still on board. And you do try to throw in your own comments, but your head is spinning like crazy and you just nod absentmindedly to everything he says.

"Ok, so I'll pick you up tomorrow."

You're ready to hang up and continue walking home, but Bambam hastily stops you, "Wait!"

You press your phone closer to your ear. You can hear him taking a derp breath. "What color are you going to wear?"

Color? "Um, I don't know...", you stutter. "Blue, maybe?"

Bambam laughs. "Good, that's my favorite color."

***

You're still dazed when he hangs up, taking small steps while looking at your feet.

You replay the conversation of the last minutes in your mind. Bambam's giddy excitement. 

But after a few minutes, you notice something else. Something weird. Bizarre. You didn't even give him your number last time, where did he get it from?

You take another step and look at your sneakers. Aren't you supposed to be excited?

You finally reach your house still thinking about it and open the door with your key. You enter to see Suyeon putting on her jacket.

Suddenly, everything clicks.

"You gave Bambam my number?"

You stare at her with disbelief and she scoffs at your accusing tone, putting on another shoe. "And if I did?"

She changes into a belligerent stance, her arms crossed. "Look, if you have a problem with it, just ignore him. Not like I did something forbidden. And you two seemed to hit it off, so...?"

Suyeon's words are fired like bullets. Your defense crumbles and she sees it.

"Anyways, I have to go now. I'll text Dad but tell them for me that I'll be back by nine, ok?"

She flips her hair and turns around.

"Wait", you interject, stammering. "I would have been nice if you had at least asked for my permission befo-"

"Ok", she cuts you off, looking over her shoulder to give you an eye-roll.

Then she shuts the door in your face and you're left staring at it helplessly.

Giving your number to Bambam was uncalled for, even for your sister and you still brood over it while you put down your backpack.

Maybe, she was just trying to be nice. After all, you did hit it off with Bambam. Dancing with him was fun. Maybe, you should be thanking Suyeon instead. 

You shake your head from thinking too much and decide to head to the bathroom to wash your face. Even if you were to confront Suyeon with it later, she would probably get mad. Something that you could do without.

***

"So, what film do you wanna see?"

Bambam is fashionably dressed: blue turtleneck and jeanjacket. He's wearing his hair down today and you almost smile at the cute and innocent look it gives him.

He had picked you from your house, confessing that he is nervous, but after a few minutes, he had warmed up and was back to being the Bambam you knew again.

You meet his eyes and he laughs, "No preference?"

Your cheeks turn warm and you shrug. "As long as it isn't horror..."

You are truly a scaredy cat. Every movie just remotely involving maimed body parts or anything close to resembling blood frightens you.

"Romantic comedy or action?", he asks, staring at you. Waiting for a reaction. A reaction that shows what you would like to see. 

You stifle a giggle, "Romantic comedy would be too much, wouldn't it?"

Bambam laughs again, warmly, "Action it is, then?"

You nod and the both of your head to the sales counter. Bambam offers to pay for your ticket, but you insist on paying for yourself.

Then, you look at the line for the food. You definitely want to get popcorn, maybe some chocolate, too.

"Didn't you notice something?", Bambam asks and you look at him questioningly.

"Notice?"

He wiggles his eyebrows and makes a cute face, but you still don't get it. 

"Should I give you a hint?", he teases and you bite your lip, stopping him before he can give you a clue.

"Your hair is different, today?", you guess with uncertainty.

Bambam laughs again and his eyes crinkle. His mouth curls upwards. He touches the nape of his neck and angles his head.

"You're wearing it."

You look down at your clothes to realize that you're wearing blue. Bambam's favorite color. You look up and stare right into his eyes, caught by the dark brown.

Suddenly turning shy, you look down again. It feels like having broken a spell. "You're wearing blue, too."

"We're matching." Bambam laughs. "It's not too awkward, right?"

You shake your head. Is it just you or is it getting really warm in here?

"Ah, let's just buy the food", you quickly switch the topic and wander off to where the food is.

Bambam follows you quickly and takes your hand, "Don't run off."

You blush and he must have noticed, but he doesn't comment on it.

You get some sweets and a shared bucket filled with popcorn. Bambam insists on paying this time and hands the men the money before you can even get out your wallet. 

The both of you stroll to your hall and a woman rips something off your tickets. You're allowed to go inside.

The lights are still on and Bambam takes a look at the ticket, "Row H."  
He turns to you. "Is it ok for you? It's a bit far from the screen."

He sounds concerned, probably because he is tall and can look over everyone's head, whereas compared to him, you're a midget.

"Yeah, it's fine", you mumble.

Bambam gives you a smile and leads you to your seats. Before you can sit down, he takes off his jacket, "Wait a second."

You stare at him in confusion.

He motions for you to sit down and you do so. Your skirts rides up slightly, showing a bit of skin, and you pull it down. Then Bambam lays his jacket over your thighs and you blush.

"You're still so polite", you marvel quietly and with embarrassment. You straighten out the wrinkles in his jacket with your fingers until Bambam takes your hand into his.

Watching an action movie was the right decision, you think to yourself. You already have enough heart fluttering moments in your own life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was writing and writing but still not happy with how this turned out. but honestly i have the plot written down(it's twelve sites in open office) and I just want to get this done because this is one of my first bigger projects. i apologize for the poor characterization and plot holes btw i'll try to improve that ---

The movie ends with Bambam's arm over your shoulders. When he carefully maneuvered his arm, he looked at you for consent. You just gave him a tired smile and a nod. All the attention honestly makes you dizzy. There's only so much you can handle.

"Are you okay?", Bambams asks when the screen finally darkens. Your eyes flutter back open. The Thai boy is staring at you with concern etched onto his face, "You seem tired. I'll take you home."

His cheeks are slightly red from being stuck in a room for so long and his plump lips looks sticky, probably because of the carbonated drink he had.

You look down at the floor and bite your own lips. "No", you then shake your head adamantly. "It's ok."

You don't want to give off a bad impression. You don't want to seem like a boring killjoy.

But Bambam stands up and holds out his hand to pull you up, "I'll drive you home." 

This time you don't have the strength to disagree and internally you  
feel grateful that he was able to pick up on your mood. 

"Thank you", you murmur, voicing out your inner feelings. You take his hand and let him help you up. 

The curse of introversion has appeared again, it seems, leaving you exhausted and craving for the comfort of your own four walls. It's a trait that you've had for as long as you can remember.

Bambam's hand never leaves yours while you walk through the stream of people, the cowds trickling out of their respective movies. You accidenally catch some girls staring at your interlocked hands and it makes you nervous. You wiggle your fingers slightly out of Bambam's grasp.

He turns to look at you, his eyes bright and twinkling, even in the dim-lit building, "Did you like the movie? Was it your taste?"

He opens the door for you and you try to remember something from the movie. Anything. Because, honestly you couldn't really focus on the screen with Bambam sitting right beside you.

"It was nice... I liked the scene where they... fought?" Your voice comes out in an unsure stutter. Perfect. It sounds more like a question and you know that with how perceptive Bambam is, he can probably see through your lie.

You feel something squeezing your fingers. Lightly. Gently. You look down to your intertwined hands and the familiar blush creeps onto your cheeks. 

"It wasn't that good", Bambam laughs good-naturedly. "It was kind of hard to follow the plot because they kept on introducing new characters."

You look at him from behind your fringe as he keeps rambling. You nervousness slowly decreases as he speaks, the only proof left of it being the slight pink tinge of your cheeks.

"Action isn't actually my favorite genre either... I really like sci-fi. I even brought some DVDs into my dorm. If you want you can come to my dorm sometime-"

You glance down at you hands quickly and Bambam stops for a moment and blinks, then hastily opens his mouth, "Oh god, that sounds wrong. I swear I'm not trying to trick you into coming to my dorm..."

You blush fiery-red when you understand the insinuation. Going to his dorm on the second date. Oh god. You're not particularly dirty-minded but from the occasional story that your sister tells,  
college guys mostly seem like hormonal douchebags.

As if hearing your thoughts, Bambam puts his hands in front of his chest defensively, blushing. "I was just trying to say that we could watch a movie! They have Korean subtitles!"

You look at him with your heart pulsating in your chest and gulp. He looks handsome with his blue clothes and cool-toned hair and strong arms and slight smile that is always there, his face submerged in the half-shadow of the building and his hand holding yours and you decide to  
just let go. Of your hesitance. Your reservation. This is just like dancing with him at the party. You can do it.

You look up at him again and try to give him an almost cunning smile, "If that's what you say."

Bambam is not used to you teasing him. He blushes even harder and you  
laugh. The next words just spill out of your mouth involuntarily, "I would love to see your dorm someday."

***

Bambam takes you to the ice cream parlor after the movie. He was ready to give you a ride home, but you insisted on continuing the date. You shouldn't let your anxiousness ruin another day, right?

But you did disentangle your hands, trying to be inconspicuous, but now his hand sometimes brushes against yours and you wonder if it is coincidental. It probably isn't.

He opens the door again and waits until you enter.

"You're really polite", you marvel with only half faked astonishment. Because it's really true. Compared to other people you have met, Bambam makes a genuine effort to be nice and after you've seen him thanking the cashier politely or lowering his head slightly so that the other people  
in the cinema can still see the movie screen, you realized that it isn't an act.

Bambam grins and tips an invisible fedora, making you guffaw. 

"I try my best", he says and you smile at his modesty.

You both sit down at a small table and you try to focus on the nice ambience and modern furniture of the place but your eyes keep being drawn to Bambam. He is busy: giving you the menu and talking about his favorite ice cream. With him sitting opposite of you, you can see his  
full face. You take in his features again. His big brown eyes and pink lips that curl up into a constant smile. He looks like he stepped right out of a commercial and it makes you feel slightly self-conscious.

"The strawberry icecream they have here is the best, but the banana split is no joke either..."

Bambam looks at you. You feel as if you've become deaf or mute or both, because his words didn't register in your brain at all. 

Caught.

An embarrassed smile tugs at the corner of his lips even though you should have been the one to be embarrassed, having been caught staring so openly.

"Sorry...", you mumble, your cheeks no doubt dusted pink. "I wasn't listening."

What is wrong with you? There are many handsome boys in the world. There are dazzling actors like Kim Soohyun or Lee Minho that don't even faze you. It isn't fair that this boy in front of you right now is making your heart do somersaults.

"Do you want to have the banana split? It's really tasty..." Bambam repeats his words with a smile.

"We can share it."

The words spill out of your mouth before you can do anything and the color of Bambam's face now resembles yours. 

"We can do that." He quickly looks down.

Oh god. Oh god. Why did you suddenly have to make it this awkward? Everything went pretty well and now you're back to staring at the options on the menu, trying to avoid Bambam's bright eyes.

As if on cue, a waitress comes over to take your orders and Bambam turns confident again. He has such poise and suaveness that you almost believe that he has been born to give commands, yet he's  
incredibly polite at the same time.

When the waitress is gone, you can feel his stare on you once again: warm and comforting and sending shivers down your spine.

When the banana split arrived with chocolate drizzle and whipped cream, he's back to talking. Talking about uni. Talking about Thailand. You make an effort to listen intently, slowly scooping ice cream into your mouth.

You're down to half melted remnants when his phone rings all of a sudden. Bambam looks at you and you nod, mouthing "Take it" and he stands up, gliding his hand into his pocket to take the call.

"Hey Taehyung-... No, I'm out right now... Isn't Yugyeom there?"

Bambam glances at his watch and then at you apologetically. "Yeah, he probably has practice right now. I can drop by in half an hour, if that's ok?"

It's sounds like it's something important, so you quickly grab his arm.

"I can just go now", you whisper, trying to be considerate. You really don't want to bother him, especially if his friend needs help.

He hears it but shakes his head. You insist, though and when Bambam hangs up you put your hand on the table.

“It's ok, I can just go home. It's not that far from here.”

“No, no, nonsense”, Bambam retorts. “I'll just pay and then take you home.” He looks into your eyes. “Taehyung just left some documents in our room that he needs.”

His hand reaches for his wallet, but you shake your head.

“Oh no, you don't have to pay”, you quickly say. “It's the 21st century.”

Bambam laughs at your witty comment, but whips out his wallet anyways before you can stop him. You stop protesting and just make a mental note to pay for your food the next time. The next time. You blush.

After paying, you two head outside. It's gotten a bit chillier and you pull your jacket closer. 

You catch Bambam's worried stare in your peripheral and look down at the floor bashfully. What's up with you? One minute you're confident and self-assured and the next you can't even look him in the eye. Ah...

“You live near the big park, right?” Bambam turns to you.

You tilt your head and peer at him from behind your hair. “That's right.”

Though it's not located in the central part of the town, your house looks quiet nice and it's convenient to be close to the park. You always imagine that the air must smell a lot nicer, because there are a lot of trees and when it gets warm, you enjoy sitting on your balcony, enjoying the view.

“Drive with me then. The dorms aren't that far away from them park. I'll just get the papers and then I can drop you off, if you don't mind.”

Truthfully, you appreciate his actions. It really is getting cold and uni is on the way to your house anyways. So it would be smart to take him up on his offer.

“Ok.” You exhale finally. 

***

Bambam shifts gears and parks the car, turning to you. “Do you want to wait in the car... or come to the room with me? I swear it won't take long either way.”

His cheeks are tinted pink and smile slightly. 

“I... Can I just come with you? If that's ok?” Your voice comes out in a stutter, but you'd rather not wait in a car. What if it took longer than expected? The heating in the car doesn't work when the engine isn't on, does it?

Bambam blushes even harder at your response and you put your hand in front of your mouth. 

“Ahh- I just don't wan't to wait in a car... That's everything.”

“Oh, yes. That's understandable. I'll just...”

He gets out of the car and you quickly follow suit. He takes his key to lock it and you two awkwardly go to the buildings together. 

Suyeon still lives at home, because it's cheaper and more comfortable that way, so you've never been to the dorms before. It's seems quite nice: modern but not too cold, held in grey with big windows.

Many students are walking down the cobblestone paths, trickling out of the buildings, others entering it, talking to each other animatedly. In the midst of the students, you spot a guy with blond hair. It's not just any guy. You recognize him immediately.

Youngjae. 

The name echoes in your head and you bite your lip. Your eyes meet for a second, but he doesn't react. His face is full of indifference and you wonder if you've done anything to upset him. Did he expect something for taking you home? Gas money? 

His eyes pierce right through you and for a second you shiver-

“Have you seen the building before? They actually modenized almost everything a few years ago, so it looks a lot better now. One of my friends said that it didn't look this way when he went here.”

Bambam smiles at you and you look at him. He could fit right into a university catalogue even with his dyed hair. He catches your stare and laughs good-naturedly. For a moment, you wonder if he has any worries in his life because he seems like such a bright kid.

You shake your head, trying not to think of Youngjae. He has probably forgotten your face, that's why he didn't acknowledge you, right?

“Suyeon didn't take me to the dorms before”, you say absent-mindedly, fiddling with your sleeve. “Actually, I've never been to her uni before.”

You gulp. “We're not... that close.”

It's a quiet admission, a bit like when you confessed that you couldn't dance, because it reveals something about you. Something that makes you vulnerable.

Bambam's hand finds your and he stops you from playing with your sleeve. 

“It's fine.” His voice sounds calm and assuring. “I'm sure it will get better with time.”

You stare down at the floor as he continues leading you to his room. “I hope so”, you murmur, before he gets out a key. 

When he opens the room, he blushes. “It's a bit messy...”

He sounds like he's embarrassed and you grin slightly, happy to switch to another topic. 

“Messy?”, you repeat. “How messy?”

He lets you in and you take in the room. It's spacious with two beds and dressers as well as desk. It is messy, but only slightly, with a few clothes lying here and there and candy wrappers. The worst thing are the desks. They look really unorganized and your inner neat freak comes out, making you cringe slightly.

“It's not that bad”, you mumble and he laughs nervously.

“Should I help you looking for the documents?”

You end up searching for them together, opening the drawers and rummaging through piles of paper. When you finally find it under a report, you show it to Bambam. 

“That's it, right?”

The searching honestly was more exhausting that you would've imagined and you sink down on the mattress, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, that's it!” He smiles at you gratefully and you see his teeth. “Thank you!” He looks at his watch and then at you. “I'll just bring in to Taehyung, if that's ok. Can you wait her for a minute? You shouldn't have to run through the building.” 

He scratches his neck and you nod. At least his room is warm.

“Sure, that's fine.” You give him a smile and he stares at you. “I swear, I'll be back in a minute!”

And with that he's gone and you're left in his room, exhaling deeply and then falling onto the blanket with an exhausted sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this :,)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to @KricketSC80 who is an angel. Thank you for leaving encouraging comments and kudos. I really appreciate it so much! I hope you continue to enjoy my story

When you hear someone opening the door, you stifle a yawn, expecting Bambam. You get up and look at the door with tired eyes.

But it isn't Bambam.

A tall guy enters and the first thing that catches your attention immediately is his hair cut. It reminds you of a bowl cut, the one children in elementary school all used to wear not too long ago, but the rest of him is anything but childish. He has long legs and a sharp, cold gaze with dark eyes that are staring at you. Directly at you.

“Oh!”, suddenly frightened, you stumble over your own feet, tumbling over the floor until you finally land directly on the floor in front of his feet.

He stares down at you, his eyes turning small with annoyance and mistrust. Then he scoffs.

“Move.”

You angle your head so you can look up at him but are only met with a proud jawline. “Ah, I'm sorry...”

Your voice cracks and you gulp, quickly scrambling to your feet, trying to regain your balance and dignity.

“I'm just here for Bambam, because of the documents... and Taehyung.” Your efforts at explaining yourself seem to be futile, because the unknown guy just rolls his eyes. 

It's just now that you realize that there are beads of sweat grazing his face, making his hair stick to his forehead. He also has a large bag with him. He must have been exercising. You blink and feel your cheeks starting to heat up.

Suddenly, something clicks in your head. 

“You must be Yugyeom, right?” Your words stumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. He only rewards your recognizing him with a disparaging glance.

“I'm waiting for Bambam... He should be back in a few minutes-”

As if on cue, the door opens again and you turn to see cold blond hair and a bright smile.

Bambam looks at you and then at Yugyeom. “You're already here!”, he exclaims. “I thought you had practice. Taehyung was looking for some documents that he left here.” 

You take in Yugyeom's changing expression. His frown that he showed to you slowly melts away as he looks at Bambam speaking. You can't help but feel slightly offended. Why did he look at you with such scorn and contempt? You've never seen him before...

Bambam suddenly beckons you forward with a good-natured smile. “This is Juyeon.”

As soon as you step into his line of vision, Yuyeom's frown reappears again and his hard gaze brushes over you.

“Juyeon, this is Yugyeom, my roommate.” Bambam looks at you with a conspiratorial grin. “Don't mind him, he always looks unfriendly at first.” 

You can hear Yugyeom scoffing, but your heart swells a bit in you chest. Bambam, whatever he does or says, is always perceptive, like he can see right through you and your every expression. Maybe being so transparent should concern you, but at least right now, it doesn't. 

A small smile appears on your lips and you stare down at the floor bashfully. 

You can hear some shuffling and realize that Yugyeom is probably putting his bags down.

“Sorry for making you wait so long”, Bambam says. His fingers gently reach for yours and you look up with surprise. 

“Thank you for coming back”, you mumble. He smiles and it makes your spine tingle. 

“Let's take you home.”

 

**

It's early in the morning and you're sitting at the dinner table next to your phone, staring at your laptop. Ever since you've been dancing with Bambam, you've been thinking about looking up a school online. Some kind of club or academy where you could take lessons.

The thought itself already overwhelmed you, but defying your expectations, dancing with Bambam had been really fun. You still had a bit of time to spare, because exams were yet to come and you were sure that your parents would be happy if you decided to take up a hobby.

You skim through the options until you find one that sounds promising. The website looks modern, the prices are affordable and it boasts good reviews. 

You hear the key turning downstairs and look back at your latop, staring at the opening times. You make a mental note to go there.

“Hello!”, your sister greets with a friendly voice. You can hear her taking her shoes off and putting her jacket on a hanger.

You close the windows on your laptop and turn it off.

Your sister enters and as soon as she spots you, her expression turns sour. Her eyes narrow and she clicks her tongue. 

“Hey”, you greet back, trying to smile at her. Her expression darkens considerably and you look at her.

“What is it?”, you ask. You can already feel your voice beginning to get squeaky. You're really bad at arguing because direct confrontations always make you nervous instead relying on others to defend you. It's another habit that you should shake off. Maybe you can start today.

“What is it?”, your sister repeats incredulously, raising her eyebrows.

You blink. You really have no idea what you've done wrong. You didn't forget her birthday or talk bad about her. In fact, you two haven't been talking at all for a while. But why is she so mad?

The display of your phone suddenly lights up with a new message from Bambam. You stare at it for a second. He's asking if you have time this afternoon. Your heart flutters in your chest, before you quickly look back at your sister again, trying to focus on her.

“Jaebum has been asking for you since the party”, she finally spits out, throwing her bag on the couch. “He wants your phone number.”

You tilt your head, trying to remember something. But you can't. The name Jb doesn't ring any bells. None.

Your sister clicks her tongue and looks at the ceiling, exhaling loudly. 

“Are you really that desperate?”, she finally asks, glaring at you. “You knew that I had a thing for him.”

You still don't get it and look at her with wide eyes. The insult stings. “I-”

“You knew that I liked Jb and you still went after him!”

Her words knock the air out of your lungs and for a moment you stand still. Your limbs fall to your side. Jb. Jaebum. The sweet-talking guy with copper hair. The smoker. The guy who teased you. The guy your sister likes. It's one and the same person.

Suddenly, her sour mood and her grim expression when you entered the house with him make sense. You feel apologetic immediately. 

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.” You put your hand in font of your mouth and turn to your sister. Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes and your face heats up. 

Your sister just scoffs. 

“I didn't... I really didn't know. I'm so stupid. I'm so sorry, Suyeon.”

You stand up and look at her unsurely. “I really didn't know.”

“You didn't know what?” Her gaze is hard and unfaltering. 

“I didn't know it was him. If I had known I wouldn't have talked to him. I'm sorry.” The words stumble out of your mouth until you finally stop and look at your sister. She's still standing there in a belligerent pose, her arms crossed, staring at you with suspicion.

“I really didn't know”, you insist one more time and she stares at you, clicking her tongue again. 

“Do you think I'm stupid?”, she asks with disbelief before hastily turning on her heel and walking up the stairs.

You consider running after her for a second, but decide it would be best to give her time to cool off. When your sister, or anyone for that matter, is angry, they are unreasonable and irrational, unable to listen to anything. Arguing with her now would probably only worsen the misunderstanding.

You sigh and sit back down to bury your head in your arms. So much for changing your ways and being willing to confront people.

You remember Bambam's text and get your phone. 

'Do you have time right now?', you text back.

**

You end up going to the same ice cream parlor again. Bambam says that it's to make up or the botchd first day, but you tell him that it was just fine and remind him that it's you who is paying this time.

This time, you're taking the strawberry ice cream and it arrives with whipped cream, fresh fruits and two spoons. 

Bambam gives you your spoon and smiles. “Dig in.”

You carefully scoop up a bit of ice cream and put it into your mouth. It's delicious and a smile spreads on your lips.

“It's good”, you mouth carefully. Bambam's eyes are bright and you realize that he's wearing blue again. A blush spreads on your cheeks. He must have caught your fleeting gaze, because his smile gets even wider.

“How is... uni going?”, you quickly ask, trying to steer him away from any topic that you're not yet comfortable talking about.

Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind.

“Well, there's a lot of time left until the exams start, so I'm not too stressed right now. What about you? You're in your last year. It must be really hard, right?”

He swallow some ice cream and you can see his adam's apple moving. You quickly look away.

“It's not that bad. Like you, the exams are still far away, so I have a lot of time left...” Your voice comes out in an embarrassed mumble and you quickly try to hide behind your hair.

“Then you still have a lot of time for dates”, he states and you cough lightly.

You can hear Bambam chuckling awkwardly and quickly put another spoon into your mouth, avoiding his eyes.

After that, your conversation quickly settles into a comfortable rhythm of asking questions, getting answers, being asked questions and giving answers.

“Why do you look so down today?”, Bambam finally asks, staring into your eyes like he can see everything that is going on in your head. You blame his perceptiveness.

Shrugging, you look down at your spoon. Explaining what happened today with your sister is difficult. Not because you're embarrassed, but because you generally dislike badmouthing people and spreading rumors. Surely, Bambam would keep your secrets, but it would be impossible to shake off the feeling that you're telling on your sister.

“I just hurt another person”, you admit distractedly. “Not physically”, you quickly add with a slight smile. “But with my actions.”

You play with the spoon in your hand and then look up. “Where do you usually hang out with your friends?”, you quickly ask, trying to change the topic. 

This conversation is, again, verging on the margins of you. Your worries. Your fears. And every time you give up a piece of yourself, every time Bambam is venturing further into this cosmos of anxiousness and concerns, into this cosmos of you, it raises tiny red flags, like you're leaving yourself too vulnerable.

“Do you often come here? You... You seem like a regular.” It doesn't sound really smooth, you're not a master of extemporizing, you're honestly bad at oming up with small talk topics out of the blue and all on your own. 

Thankfully, Bambam is nice enough to catch onto your mood.

“I sometimes come here with Yugyeom”, he says and you think back to his roommate with the icy expression and hard gaze. “But we often hang out at Jinyoung's place, too, because he's loaded.”

He rubs his thumb and pointer finger together and grins at you. You mouth curls upwards inadvertently. His grin is so bright that it could light up the entire world.

**

When class ends next day, you still find yourself thinking back to Bambam. After giving you a ride back home, he hugged you and you swore that you would suffocate because even his smile alone was enough to make you die of asphyxiation.

Thinking back to how surprisingly comfortable it was in his arms still leaves you tingling.

Your classmates cajoled the teacher into not giving you homework today, so you're technically free today, but like always, you find yourself heading to the library instead. 

Revision is the most important thing. At least that's what all the teachers say. You do agree, though, so you try to brush up your knowledge and review subjects as much as you can. It's really going to pay off in the long run.

You shoulder your backpack and open the door. 

The library is big and spacious, with many windows and tall shelves filled with both contemporary and older literature. You settle down at your regular table and get out your books, folders and notebooks.

A quick glance around tells you, that the library is almost deserted. The only other person you can see is a guy clad in a flannel with chestnut brown hair staring down at his book. He seems really immersed and you see his study utensils. 

He must be really dedicated. 

You smile slightly and get to work. While languages are your strong point, you often struggle with the sciences. You're good at memorizing, but it takes you effort and time to grasp particular concepts or ideas that hide behind formulas.

Maths for example has been one of your enemies ever since fifth grade. It can be really difficult to understand certain things, even with your trusted calculator. 

You open the book and look for a page that can do today and then start.

It's tiring and when you're stuck in the middle of a really complicated calculation, you let out an exasperated sigh and look up at the ceiling in frustration.

From your peripheral, you can catch someone's warm gaze on you and quickly look down.

The guy from the other desk is observing you and meets your gaze calmly. He's definitely handsome with styled hair that is darker at the roots, strong eyebrows and dark eyes. He has a prominent nose and soft looking lips. He's really, really good-looking.

Suddenly, he blushes and a mischievous grin spreads on your face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's is another oc with a small role: K. she'sinspired by a lovely reader that I dont know much about, but you share one characteristic. Youre both very encouraging. Thanks for reading my story

You're done with studying and already at home, when you realize that you wanted to look for the dance studio. No one else is there, so you quickly scribble a note on a post it and leave it in the kitchen. 

You close the door behind you and head out. The map on your phone tells you that the studio is just fifteen minutes away, a distance that you're able to walk comfortably, but as closer as you get, the more foreign the streets look. 

Your sense of direction isn't that great, plus you haven't been out that many times so you're stuck looking at your phone to find the right direction.

When you finally find it, you're a bit shocked. The building is bigger than expected, held in simple grey colors and looking rather discreet. 

You look around, trying to make sure that you're at the right address. 

It is the right address, but you're not really sure if you should enter. 

Ah, screw it. Inhaling deeply, you reach for the door and open it. Immediately, you are welcomed with the smell of vinyl floors and the sound of loud music. Music so loud, you swear you can feel the floor vibrating beneath your feet.

It's American music, probably, a catchy tune that you've heard on the radio before. 

A few people are standing before a door. All of them look exhausted, but happy. One younger woman is sitting down, taking sips of her water. She looks friendly, sporting a fashionable but comfortable t-shirt and sweatpants, so you decide to approach her. 

“Sorry”, you murmur with a quiet voice and gulp. She looks up and you get a good look at her pretty face. You almost blush at how beautiful she is. 

“Excuse me, I'm just... wondering about dance lessons...?” You sound quiet and unsure, but she politely stands up and graces you with a friendly wink. 

“I'm K”, she says, exuding an air of quiet poise and confidence. “And you're at the right place.” She looks at your trainers and comfortable sports wear. “You're even wearing the right clothes.” She grins.

You don't know whether it's the appropriate time to thank her, so you just nod, making her eyes crinkle with amusement. She pats another girl on the shoulder, “I'll briefly help her. I'll be back in a minute, Nayeon.”

Then she beckons you forward to another room. It has a chic and sleek, yet relaxed design, just like the entire building and the people in it, too.

“You're lucky”, K says, “that you managed to stumble into one of the instructors and administrators. Just give me your name and you can do a few free lessons to test it. Not everyone likes it and it can be exhausting, but I promise that it's worth the time. You'll be more athletic, more flexible and it's even good for your health.”

Although she sounded quite serious, she gives you a friendly smile that makes you feel warm. You return it automatically. 

“Ok.” You nod and give K your name. She quickly jots it down.

“My lessons just finished, but there is another one starting in just a few minutes. The instructor is young...”, she narrows her eyes at you playfully, guessing your age. “Probably around your age, but very capable.”

She smiles and stands up to usher you out of the room. “I'm sure you'll like him.”

After thanking her profusely, and her saying that it's nothing, you walk down the corridor and get into the actual practice room. 

There are many people inside the room, ones who wear black leggings and crop tops, others who wear shorts with labels one them, others wear sweatpants. They all have one thing in common: They all look nice and incredibly gorgeous.

You stand at the entrance, balancing from one foot to another nervously. You think about how you can approach them, when they all look so unapproachable.

Your problem is solved when the door opens again.

“Hello”, a familiar voice greets, making everyone break out into smiles. But the voice makes a shiver run down your spine. It can't be...

Your fears are confirmed when you turn around. You stare directly into Yugyeom's face. His smile drops as soon as he sees you, then he scoffs and brushes past you to the front.

He looks as stoic as ever, as least when he looks your way, but surprisingly enough, he smiles a lopsided smile when he faces the other students. He exudes quiet confidence and authority like he has been doing this for a long time, just like K.

Everyone streams forward, eager to get closer to him and you suddenly find yourself in the third row with a girl with long, black hair. She gives you a slight, but distant smile and looks at the front. 

They all start warming up, stretching, with a bit of quiet music playing in the background. You're still a bit dazed and follow their moves distractedly, trying to catch up, but it proves impossible. Everyone seems to be much better than you, probably because they have been going here for a longer time.

You're the type of person to be quickly discouraged when things don't go your way, so you try you hardest to get the moves right.

It looks a bit embarrassing, to be honest, the way you're trying to emulate the others and you sure that you catch Yugyeom rolling his eyes in your direction a few times. 

“Just try to follow the movements slowly”, the girl next to you suggests suddenly. “It's not about doing it quickly, but the right way.”

She stretches out her legs and smiles at you again and you nod, “Thank you.”

You repeat the movements a few more times, trying to pay attention to your posture and it really seems to work better. Dancing for fun is really different from this, but you'll try your best.

Then, when you finally get it right, the music stops and everybody lets out loud sighs of relief. 

“We're learning a new routine today”, Yugyeom explains. “The song is a bit slower than the last one, but it is harder, so try to follow me carefully.”

And with that said, he begins the first few steps. He first shows them without the music, repeats it and then asks the group to follow. 

As expected, you're completely lost. 

Looking at the girl next to you, she really seems to have the actual skills and you try to copy her. 

One, two, three. One, two, three.

“Now, with music.” Yugyeom's voice echoes through the practice room and you stare down at your feet, hoping that they will obey you. 

Unfortunately, they don't. You end up almost tripping and the girl on your right gives you a pitying look while she follows the steps perfectly, undisturbed by your failure.

“Slowly”, she reminds you with a whisper and you smile at her gratefully, giving her a small thumbs up. Then, the music stops and everyone turns to the front again.

Yugyeom shows the next steps. You find yourself wondering why you didn't notice that he's a dancer before. He has good proportions and slight muscles that are visible even through his comfortable clothes and he is also really tall. Now that you're looking at him, he also moves gracefully, like dancing comes to him effortlessly. It seems like dancing to him is like breathing to you.

He explains the movements and everyone follows suit, trying it out. 

You're lagging behind again, trying to angle your foot the way he does.

“You.” All of a sudden, all heads fly around to you, staring you down. “You're doing it wrong. It's the left foot”, he explains, sounding annoyed.

You can hear a few girl giggling into their hands and you blush, staring down at your trainers.

You quickly angle the other, right foot and stare at the front again. 

Yugyeom patiently goes through the steps one more time after another girl asks for it and then turns on the music again. The intro starts playing. 

“We'll go through all the steps together this time!”

The music begins. Left, right, angle, left, one, two, three. 

Out. You've forgotten the next steps again and helplessly stare at the girl next to you. She executes the first part of the choreo perfectly and you stare at her in awe.

When everything ends, you clap slightly. “You're really good”, you compliment. 

She brushes her long hair behind her hair. “Thank you.” Then she laughs lightly, touching her forehead.“You're still pretty bad.” 

You laugh back, surprised at her honesty. But she is right. You nod slightly and touch your red cheeks. “It's fun though”, you admit and she laughs again.

You do several more parts after that, all of whom you, more or less, fail. Somin, as the girl introduces herself after a few minutes, tries to help you, but you end up giggling after completely failing a particularly difficult movement.

“If you're disturbing others, leave.” 

If Yugyeom's distaste for yu hadn't been obvious before, it is now. His voice sounds cold, completely different from when he's speaking to the others. A few students stare at you with curiosity or mild disdain. You can understand them, though. A particularly untalented dancer who manages to piss of the instructor in her very first lesson is nothing that you would want to have in your class either, so you quickly shut up and concentrate on the lesson

One, two, three. 

When you go through the choreo again, Yugyeom moves through the rows of students, correcting their postures and movements. When he reaches you, you try not to stop breathing. You can see him in the big mirror, standing right behind you with his dark clothes and irritated expression, scowling at you.

In an attempt to make up with him, to make amends, you smile at him through the mirror. 

He clearly sees it yet his eyebrows furrow and then he narrows his eyes. 

“You're holding your arms wrong”, he says, scowling again.

“Like this?”, you ask, moving them.

“No, like this.” He show you the proper way and you tilt your head in confusion, not realizing what you've done wrong. Is the angle incorrect? Or the entire position?

You move your arm, yet he grabs it your wrist and yanks it down, moving it to the left. Your eyes meet for a milli second, his dark and narrow and you catch your gaze flying to his ear. There in his earlobe is a tiny piece of silver, a small earring.

Your heart stumbles in your chest.

Yugyeom suddenly drops your hand like he just touched a stinging nettle and you gasp.

“I'm sorry”, you quickly apologize, but he has already turned around, helping the next student.

**

After the lessons, you quickly go home. You're sweaty and exhausted and you're sure your heart is still going way too fast for it to be healthy. 

It's already a bit chilly, so you walk even faster and quickly reach your home, opening the door with your key.

The smell of popcorn and nachos welcomes you and giggles. You take off your shoes and jacket and walk to the dining room curiously. Your sister rarely takes anyone home and you've barely seen your parents' friends before, so you're curious who's there.

“No, Momo told me about it. She swore that she saw Bambam with a girl at the ice cream parlor!”

You stop in your steps. You recognize the voice. It's Seulgi, one of your sister's friends and also the girl who accompanied you to the party. And the girl that was with Bambam? Is Seulgi talking about you?

You're pretty sure that she's talking about you.

You hear your sister clicking her tongue. “The ice cream parlor?”, she asks. “As expected, Bambam is a softy. I don't know why Mina even liked him.”

Your breath halts for a second and your cheeks start burning. You instantly feel guilty. Not just for eaves-dropping but also for going on a date with a guy that one of your sister's friends liked. Although... it's nonsensical, isn't it? You never knew about her feelings yet it still makes you feel burdened to know that you went on a date with someone else's crush.

You exhale and open your mouth. “I'm home!”, you say loudly and the chattering in the dining room instantly stops.

You put on a smile and enter. 

“Hi.”

Your sister stares at you from her place and you see that they have snacks and books spread out before them. Seulgi has another hair color, one that ventures slightly into red and it looks flashy, but good on her.

“Hey little sister!” She grins at you. “What do you think about my new hair? Suyeon doesn't like it.” Seulgi elbows your sister lightly. 

Suyeon raises her eyebrows and blows a raspberry. “I didn't say that I hate it! I just said that the other color suited you better!”

You smile at their bickering. Your heart is still heavy with the thoughts about Mina and all the things you've been keeping, the secrets you've been keeping from your sister as well. She doesn't know that you went on a date with Bambam either, making her just as clueless as Seulgi. 

“I like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this but here it is. Any native English speakers who are interested in being beta-readers? ps: k finally appears. she is inspired by a lovely reader that I dont know that mch about, but thank you for reading and commenting. I love reading your comments and I love that people like this enough to comment ... ^^


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you notice the quality of this story improving drastically starting from this chapter, it's because I finally have a beta-reader aka @kricketSC80 who has poured her time and effort into correcting my grammar and so much more. Thank you so much. I'm really grateful.

It is a few day later when Bambam calls you, inviting you to a party on Friday at Jinyoung's. He sounds both excited and nervous, talking into the speaker a bit too loudly.

“Last time, you asked me where we like to hang out, do you remember?”

You can almost hear his grin through the phone, his positive energy. For a moment, your heart constricts in your chest, painfully. He's is such a positive person, unlike you. You look down at your organized desk, at the neon highlighters and sharpened pencils, then at the white paper in front of you. You haven't written anything down.

“I remember”, you say, because you do. Somehow, every moment that you shared with Bambam, be it short or insignificant, is seared into your memory, ingrained in your heart like a permanent tattoo. It's nothing that you asked for, it's just something that happened.

“So, do you wanna go? Everyone is gonna be there.” His voice sounds promising. The promise of fun times hangs in the air, a promise that is still daunting to you, despite your recent adventures. At your core, you're still you, reserved, a homebody. You take your pencil between two fingers, taking the sharpener with your other hand. Shedding your hermit-like nature doesn't seem to be getting any easier, no matter how many parties you attend. Bambam's soft voice cuts through your thoughts. 

“I'm gonna be there.” 

His teasing, yet slightly embarrassed voice hints at fun. Dancing. Shared glances. Intertwined hands. Rosy cheeks. It's just a few words, a single invitation, yet it seems to hold more meaning than that. Does this invitation extend to more than just the party? For a second, you allow your mind to wander to imaginary places. A time in the future where you stand next to a certain boy with icy blond hair. A time when what ties you together is more than just a few dates. Yet the question is: Do you want that? Do you want to take this path? Do you want to go somewhere you haven't been before? You glance at the phone in your hands, in a matter of split seconds, you make a decision. A decision that might cost you your neck.

“I would love to go there with you.” You finally answer, trying hard to sound casual. Your head starts spinning as soon as the words leave your mouth. Everyone is going to be there. Everyone. You think back to the last party. Jaebum. Your sister. Everyone is going to be at this party, right? Without even wanting it, a crazy idea starts forming in your head. An idea that you would have rejected as crazy, demolished as having arisen from delirious daydreams if it came from someone else. You would have done that, if it wasn't for the heavy burden and the guilt that still simmered in the back of your mind. You fidget, a sudden stream of nervous excitement surging through you. Be it crazy or not. You have to do it. You have to make things right.

“I would love to go there with you”, you repeat quickly and more firmly this time. There is a white noise in your ears.

You hear Bambam rejoicing. He starts talking about something else, but you can't bother listening closely anymore and so while Bambam is recounting exciting things that happened to him, you just throw in an occasional absentminded comment, until Bambam has to hang up, having to take care of some stuff. When the line is dead, you look at your hands again, the lead of the pencil has broken. You didn't even hear the crack, without cleaning up, you stand up from your chair and go to your bed, falling onto it with a loud thud.

“Everyone is gonna be there”, you repeat his words first slowly over and over again, almost like a chant. “Everyone.” You jump up from your comfortable bed and run down the stairs.

“Suyeon? Suyeon?” Your voice is uncharacteristically loud, bouncing against the walls, amplified by your excitement.

“What?” She yells back from the kitchen, heading in her direction with a few quick steps. She is pouring milk into a bowl of cereals, not looking at you, ever since your confrontation, you still feel like there's a rift between you, a chasm that you haven’t dared to cross until now.

“Are you busy on Friday?” you ask, slightly out of breath, a glimmer of hope present in your voice showing that you’re enthusiastic. Thanks to Bambam, you have a chance to make it up to her. To right your wrongs, to atone for your sins in a way and to lay the first brick of a future foundation of sisterhood. Your heart swells at the thought.  
“I'm busy.”

Busy? Your heart deflates at her cold word, deflates like a balloon that someone poked with a sharp needle. Suyeon turns around and glances at you for a millisecond before she takes the bowl into her hands and carries it to the dining room.

“You- you're busy?” you repeat, following her. You feel dejected, your plans – shattered.

“Yeah, I'm busy. I'm...” she stops for a second, searching for words. “I'm studying... with Seulgi.” You can tell that she's annoyed, she doesn’t even bother hiding her annoyance, but there's something else, too. Almost like she isn't telling you something, you gulp instead of following the thought. Your sister, although you aren't on good terms or ever been particularly close, wouldn't lie to you. Would she?

“Oh.” You finally falter. Your expression turns grey and you fidget with your hands. If she's studying that's good, too, isn't it? You should stay positive. Maybe it won't work this time, but... surely there will be a next time right? Disappoint still lingers, making you frown. Your sister still has her back to you, unable to see your frown. You let out a last sigh and finally put on a tight smile.

“Ok, then.”

**  
When Friday abruptly arrives like a sudden summer drizzle, it's unexpected and cold. You're standing on the curb in front of your house wearing a thin jacket over a black skirt and a blouse, your usual go-to combo for everything, but today isn't like every other day. You hadn't really thought about the party after your sister said that she couldn't come. When Bambam texted you today, saying that he would pick you up at eight, you were a bit flabbergasted. Surprised, because you had pushed every other thought out of your mind, every thought about your sister and about the party. It's colder than expected, so you pull your jacket closer, nestling into the comforting warmth of the cotton material, when a familiar car pulls up. You recognize the driver immediately, his blond hair glistening, even under the dim light of the lantern and his lips curled into his signature smile. Bambam stops the car and before he can do something absurdly chivalrous like getting out to open your door, you open the door and hop into the passenger seat next to him. You recognize the trendy idol tune playing in the background.

“Hey”, you say nervously, putting on your seatbelt. 

“Hey...”

Then you turn to the front and Bambam starts the car again. Even though it's already a bit dark, you can see the way his bright eyes twinkle. You inhale slightly, his lips are pink, glistening under a coat of Chap Stick, making your cheeks feel warm.

“How are you?” Bambam's softly asks.

“I'm fine...” You fidget with your hands, not knowing what to say. It's still feels awkward. 

It gets better when you talk for a while, you think. It's when you get lost in his sweet words and jokes, that your awkwardness slowly begins to melt away like snow when the sun comes out on a warm early spring day. Yet even right now, you still feel your shyness. You still feel your lack of social interaction that always shows in these kinds of situations, especially when you have to talk to someone. When there's just you and someone else. You and Bambam. Just the two of you. Alone. You stare at the road before you, the dark tarmac and the yellow lights. It's completely quiet.

“Are you cold?” Bambam suddenly asks with a hint of worry, breaking though the awkward silence. “It is a bit cold in here, isn't it?”

You notice him glancing at your thin blouse for a second. Goosebumps appear on your skin, but it's not due to the temperature.

“O- Oh, no. It's fine.” Your voice comes out in an embarrassing stutter as you stare down at your hands bashfully. Has Bambam always been this perceptive?

“It's probably because I'm so cool”, he suddenly jokes. 

A giggle escapes your mouth at his comment and your heart leaps in your chest, “Did you really just say that?” Your eyes crinkle with amusement.  
“Hey, it was a good pun!” Bambam defends his bad joke before he breaks out into a grin, too. A grin that is almost mesmerizing, pulling you in, no drawing you in, not letting you go.

You find yourself staring at him. Again. His bright eyes with long and dark lashes. His eyes that are so focused on the road before you. His eyes that are so warm whenever he's looking at you. Your gaze slowly wanders down his nose until they land on his pink lips. Your fingers twitch in your lap like they want to reach out to touch his soft skin.

“But really, if it's too cold, just tell me. I'll turn on the heating.”

Bambam points to the small temperature controller. “You can even do it yourself, if you want.”

You nod obediently before you open your mouth. “It's fine... really.” You fiddle with the hem of your skirt. “We don't have to drive that long anyways, do we?”

“Ah, about that...” Bambam runs his hand through his icy blond hair.

“Is it okay for you if we pick up Yugyeom first?” Bambam throws you a glance, asking for your approval. Without wanting it, you furrow your brows, you heart starts thumping in your chest even faster than before. 

“Yugyeom?” you repeat. 

The name leaves your mouth with a bitter taste. You quickly try to hide your reaction by putting on a small smile, but you know that it doesn't look convincing. It's not that you hate Yugyeom, no way, but after the dance lesson, it just seemed like he had a problem with you. You weren't aware of any missteps you had done and his cold behavior, he honestly left you wondering what the cause of his animosity towards you. Bambam must have noticed your expression, because he turns to you.  
“Are you okay with him? Did anything happen last time when I wasn't there?” He sounds concerned and you can only imagine what he must think.

“Ah- no”, you quickly say, trying to put his mind at ease. “I just... I couldn't- recall who Yugyeom was?” 

You can't lie. That's a fact and now, because you lied, your cheeks are set ablaze, turning hot. So hot, in fact, that you're reminded of a TV report on the scorching heat of Australian bushfires that you've seen a few weeks ago. You just hope that the light in the car is dim enough, so that Bambam can't see your fiery red cheeks.

Bambam chuckles lightly. “He's my roommate. You met him last time.”

“Ah, yeah...”

Bambam focuses on the car in front of you that is taking a left turn. “He can seem a bit rude at first”, he says. “But underneath that he's nice.”

Nice. Was that really what Yugyeom would be like beneath his cold and stoic demeanor? Your thoughts go back to his change in personality during the dance lesson whenever he turned to you. His changing eyes that seemed to turn icy cold when looking at you. You shake your head lightly to get rid of the thoughts before putting on another smile, this time it's not just to put Bambam at ease, but also to put yourself at ease.

“I'm sure he is.”

**

You look out of the window, looking at the wide parking lot of the university. It's almost empty, there are only a few cars and a few lost souls trickling out of the buildings. For a second, you wonder if you would ever go there, to this university, enroll, and become a student. Yet before your imagination can carry you away, you shake your head.

“Wait a second, Yugyeom just texted me.” Bambam glances at his phone.

You had arrived a few moments ago and although Bambam had thought that Yugyeom would already be standing in the parking lot, waiting for you, there was no sign of said boy.

“He said he's going to be here in a few minutes.”

Bambam turns to you, gauging your reaction. “That's fine, right? You don't mind being in the car with me for a few minutes more?” He laughs lightly, teasingly and then his eyes meet yours.

A shiver runs down your spine and you force out your next words, “It's fine.” It is fine, isn't it?

“Really? It's fine?”

Bambam's hand finds yours, slowly and yet suddenly, like a matter of fact. His long fingers cover yours, warm and soft. You meet his gaze, his eyes that are still so bright, even in the dark. You drink in his features, his handsome face, and those pink lips. Bambam's gazing at you so intently, observing your every reaction. You don't even dare breathe with your mind turning into a hazy mess of jumbled thoughts.  
Slowly, Bambam moves his head, coming closer to you and you freeze in your seat, your heart thumping in your chest. Your heart thumps so loudly, you notice, so loud that Bambam must have heard it. Suddenly, he looks up and the moment the two of you just shared stops and breaks into thousand little pieces. Bambam was staring at the window behind you now, it wasn't your heart that was thumping loudly, it was actually someone knocking on the door of Bambam's car. Startled, you turn around, just in time to see Yugyeom entering. His dark eyes look deep, almost bottomless, but most of all, inscrutable. Only by the downward curl of his mouth can you tell that he is annoyed. You follow his eyes, slowly and carefully, and see that he's staring at Bambam's hand on top of yours. Immediately, you jerk back in your seat, tearing your hand away from Bambam's.

“Sorry. I'm late.” Yugyeom sounds friendly, speaking to his friend, personable, very polite. Yet how is it whenever Yugyeom directs his attention to you, his face turns grim and dark? You bury your hands under your thighs, way too nervous for your own good.

“It's no problem, really”, Bambam says. From your peripheral, you can see his red cheeks. “We were just waiting here.”

Waiting? Was he as affected by this as you are, you wonder for a split second. He probably is, right?

Well, for one, you are definitely affected by this, your mind is still foggy and you are sure if you were standing right now, your knees would buckle. 

“Waiting...” Like an echo of your thoughts, you hear Yugyeom repeating the word and then scoffing in the back, with the distant click of the seat belt follows. You try to focus on everything but him while Bambam starts the car, yet somehow, you're sure that you can feel Yugyeom's cold glare on you, making you burn up, making your heart flutter in your chest. 

“Were you working overtime again?” Bambam suddenly asks. Even you, as an outsider to their friendship, can detect the slight hint of worry in his voice, making you shuffle in your seat.

“No. I just helped Namjoon with the register.”

Bambam starts the car and looks back. “Didn't he start working a month ago? I thought at this point he would be a bit better with that thing.” 

Bambam laughs and leans over to you, like he's sharing a secret, and speaks. “Yugyeom got Namjoon the job. He's a bit older than us, but really clumsy. He even broke his sunglasses once when trying to put them on. They were pretty expensive, too.”

You smile at his attempt to include you in the conversation. “Namjoon?” you say sincerely. “I haven't met him befor-”

“Can you turn down the radio?” Yugyeom suddenly asks from the backseat, cutting you off. “It's a bit noisy in here.”

Feeling his cold eyes on you, you have to gulp. Noisy, you knew he meant you. He definitely meant you. Although, you had always perceived yourself as the type of person who is a bit too sensitive, a bit too defensive, but there is no way that Yugyeom's word weren't a jab at you. You lower your head and stare down at your skirt, you knew he definitely has a problem with you, yet you still don't know why. When Bambam finally maneuvers out of the parking lot, he's speaking softly, talking more about his university life and friends. Yugyeom is talking too, you notice, yet all you do is nod absent-mindedly. Maybe, you should've stayed at home tonight.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my amazing and super fast beta-reader KricketSC80. You're the best!

Yugyeom leaves as soon as you arrive at Jinyoung's, telling Bambam that he's going to look for another friend. You cannot help but feel relieved. Relieved, that he and his cold stare aren't there to torment you anymore.

“Do you want to get something to drink?” Bambam's voice sounds soft, even in the midst of all the people who are clapping and yelling loudly every time someone took a shot.

Jinyoung's house is more of a mansion, really, spacious and with large windows, almost like an old Italian villa with pillars and marble. You're almost afraid to step on the floor because the pale wood looks very expensive. The music is booming loudly out of speakers with colorful lights attached to the ceiling, making everything look almost kaleidoscopic. You nod helplessly at Bambam and he steers you forwards gently, already familiar with his friend's house. Following after him like a lost puppy, you get lost in looking at the other party goers now. All of them look like models, you even think that you spotted Wendy with her pale skin and a red Solo cup in her hands, laughing enthusiastically. Thinking about it, it is the third party you've ever been to, yet you're still as unexperienced as ever, staring at everything like you're at an exhibition. You don't know whether that's a good sign or a bad one.

“Jinyoung always has the best drinks”, Bambam suddenly blurts out. Eager to not let you get a false impression of him, he adds, “Not that you think I'm an alcoholic, but he even had someone mix cocktails once and they were really tasty.”

You smile a tiny smile at his statement, deciding to just go with it. “Ok, Mr. Not-an-alcoholic, let's go. Show me the hidden treasure.”

Bambam laugh softly, his bright eyes crinkling with amusement, but before you can step a foot into Jinyoung's kitchen, someone who you haven’t seen before stops you. The first thing you notice are his eyes, they are dark, so dark they are almost black like charcoal. Yet his gaze is cold, it seems to have long lost its warmth. Those eyes of his are sizing you up and down with a glare. You flinch slightly and lower your gaze, before he starts speaking, uncomfortableness seeping into your bones.

“Bambam, it's good to see you.” His voice sounds rich and deep, yet it has a forceful, almost violent edge to it, making you shiver. “And it's even better to see your beautiful friend.” He deliberately pauses, you swallow slowly, not anticipating his next words. “You have yet to introduce us.”

He almost sounds like he's sincerely feeling regretful, but you notice his taunting tone and when you look up, you see a hint of an almost sinister smirk playing on his lips. His eyes that you've only noticed as dark before, now have a calculating edge to them. It's like he's trying to figure what your worth is, just by looking at you. As if he is trying to decipher what kind of relationship you share with Bambam, which is making you really uneasy.

Bambam awkwardly laughs beside you. “I told you that I was going to bring someone”, he says, raking his hand through his icy blond hair, before he can explain, his friend cuts him off.

“Yeah, I can remember that, although you didn't tell me that she was such a beauty.”

You heart thumps in your chest with nervousness. His obvious fake flattery, his empty words that only seem to mock you, makes you feel anxious. Anxious because paired with his calculating eyes, you know that he isn't someone you should get closer to. You start fidgeting with your hands, staring down at the floor, when suddenly, a warm hand finds yours. Looking up to see Bambam holding onto your hand, not letting go, for a second, you try to allow yourself to revel in the familiar warmth, try to embrace the comfort he gives you.

“Juyeon, this is Jinyoung, the host of the party”, Bambam says finally. “Jinyoung, this is Juyeon.”

“It's my pleasure, Juyeon.”

Jinyoung's word almost make you gasp, but you gulp instead and look up, seeing his chiseled face and shiny black hair. He looks so elegant. Luxurious like he just stepped out of a commercial, yet his words sound like venom. He sounds like he's masking his ill intent behind compliments, compliments that still feel like vitriol, which makes you shiver. For a split second, you wonder what he's trying to achieve, wooing you with compliments, veiling his true intentions. He doesn't sound like someone who could be your friend, actually he doesn't sound like someone who would ever want to be your friend.

Shaking those thoughts off, you quickly look at the floor again, bowing slightly. “It's... nice to meet you.”

“Are you happy, Jinyoung?” Bambam asks, his tone is playful, but his expression shows something different. “We wanted to get something to drink.”

“I'll see you later then”, Jinyoug says after a small pause. You can hear him laughing slightly, but it doesn't feel friendly, you don't dare look up until he's gone. Looking at Bambam again, you exhale slowly, the breathe you have been holding. His hand is still in yours. Warm. Secure. Gentle.

“Is he always like that?” you suddenly ask. “Or is he like Yugyeom, hiding his nice side underneath everything?”

Bambam laughs, squeezing your hand. “He has his moments”, he explains. “When he's nice, I mean, but most of the time he isn't.”

He leads you to a kitchen, it’s held in white and grey, modern and spacious, with utensils that look almost too clean to have ever been used before, it reminds you of a kitchen in a furniture catalogue. For a split second, you're reminded of the first time you met Bambam. The memory of the first party that you went to, looking for water in the kitchen, making you slightly smile. Bambam let's go of your hand to open a cupboard, getting out a bottle.

“Why are you friends then?” you ask, curious all of a sudden. Bambam is such a positive and bright person, yet his friends are so different, almost polar opposites.

“It's a bit complicated”, he muses quietly. “I guess, it's because our parents are friends. Mine and Jinyoung's, I mean. Their friendship even influenced my parents' decision to send me to Korea for my studies.”

Pouring something into a cup, he reaches out to give it to you. The liquid has a nice color, it's a maroon color, almost bordering on purple. The scent of blackberry wafts into your nose and you close your eyes for a second.

“It- it smells nice”, you say.

“It's not too strong either”, Bambam states, making you break out into a grin.

“You sure know a lot about alcoholic beverages”, you say teasingly. The anxiousness that you felt before, the anxiousness that was caused by the encounter with Jinyoung, is slowly but surely fading away, leaving nothing but the warm feeling of comfort. You take a small sip.

**

 

Its a few hours later, when you're at, what you believe, at an appropriate level of tipsiness. Your head is swimming slightly, but your thoughts are still very clear. After Bambam introduced you to some of his other friends, including Taehyung, he excused himself for a second. That's when you spot someone with copper hair making his way through the crowd. Jaebum. Jb. Your heart starts thumping in your chest. Your sister isn't here, you remember, but you can still try to tell him that your sister is the one he should go after, not you. In a matter of split seconds, you make a decision. A decision that is probably the most stupid decision you've ever made. Meandering through the drunk mass of people, you trail after him.

“Jb!” you cry out, but your voice is drowned out by the thumping bass and by the loud chattering of the people around you. People who don't even look at you as you try to maneuver around them. “Jaebum!”

You pick up your pace and follow him. “Jb!” You're slightly breathless, almost wheezing, when he finally turns around. His eyes light up in recognition instantly, lighting up with the characteristic twinkle you've seen before. He's still as handsome as before, dazzling even, even amongst the crowd of good-looking partygoers. Without even wanting it, you start fidgeting with your hands.

“Princess”, he exclaims before you can say anything. “You're here.” His lips curl up into a silent laugh as you drink in his features. His sharp eyes, angular face, his smooth skin. Has he always looked this handsome? Exhaling, you try to push those thoughts aside. Try to push those feelings aside. When he opens his arms, you stop and stand still. Does he expect a hug? You can't- His expectant eyes meet yours, now that you're standing right in front of him, your plan seems stupid. Stupid, because you're unable to even open your mouth and what are you even supposed to tell him? How could you even convince him to give your sister a chance if you can't even find the right words? Also didn't you hate it when your sister tried to play matchmaker between you and Bambam, passing your number onto him? All sorts of thoughts are swimming in your head. Thoughts that you hadn't even considered before, maybe it's just your drunk mind. Yes, that's it. You're drunk, drunk on the alcohol, drunk on him.

“No hug?” you suddenly hear him asking. Your cheeks flame up, turning into a fiery red. It seems that even when you're tipsy, your body still reacts to Jb in the same way.

“N- No, I just... I just wanted to ask you something.”

He lets his arms fall to his side and he comes closer instead, looking at you expectantly and amusedly. His mouth curls up, his smile verging on something that you can't decipher. “What is it?”

Your heart thumps even louder in your chest and you take a quick step back that Jaebum follows, mirroring you. You hit the wall with your back, maybe it's a pillar. You don't even know at this point. Jaebum puts hits hand next to your face, so close that you feel yourself getting dizzy.

“I...I...”

Your stutter is interrupted by an outburst.

“I can't believe this.”

You spin around to see your sister standing a few feet away from you. Her jaw is quivering and she looks at you with disbelief. Letting out a gasp, she changes into a belligerent stance.

Your heart stops for a second. “Suyeon”, you whisper, barely registering that Jb lets his hand fall down.

She gives you a last look of contempt, her eyes so cold that it breaks your heart and then turns on her heels. For a moment, you stare at her retreating figure, getting smaller and smaller, hear the click of her heels. You feel as if you're frozen to the ground. Her being at this party means that she lied to you, you realize, but what's more important is that she saw you with Jaebum. Your heart stops for a second when you realized she probably thinks that you are flirting with Jb-

Disregarding the boy next to you, you break out into a jog, following her through the crowd. “Suyeon!”

She stops and turns around, and you can see her face, tears visible in her eyes. “What? Do you want to rub it in?” Her voice starts getting louder. From your peripheral you notice a few of the guests beginning to stare at the two of you, not masking their interest.

“Do you want to rub it in that he is interested in you? Or are you just trying to steal him away after I told you that I like him?”

Panting, she wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. Then she stares at you with a disgusted expression. The accusation stings, but her stare that is so full of disgust hurts even more. Before you can defend yourself, she suddenly scoffs, turning away from you.

“You know what. I don't care- I don't care! Just leave me alone!” Her voice breaks and you reach out your hand.

“Su- Suyeon, wait, that isn't...” But before you can finish your sentence, she slips away, disappearing in the crowd and you're left by yourself with your heart beating fast. The other guests are still staring at you, whispering, and you quickly duck your head trying to disappear.

This evening is not turning out the way you wanted it to be. Not at all. You touch your temple, trying to calm down your feelings, trying to reduce the pain. Then you exhale quickly and scurry through the mass of people. You look for a way outside, trying to catch your breath and be alone for a moment. You hasten through the crowd, adrenaline still pumping through your veins, and finally open a door. The cold fresh air hits you like a reality check, you let yourself fall down to sit on the patio, burying your head in your hands. Your sister is mad at you, given she was mad at you before, but now she's furious. You've broken her trust, letting her down. 

You let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe, you shouldn't have tried to meddle in your sister's relationship in the first place. Closing your eyes, you exhale. Of course, you can try to clear up the misunderstanding later, after your sister has calmed down, but what is the chance of her believing you now? No matter her wrong assumptions, you realize, it was your immature actions that led to her misconceptions in the first place. You head is spinning, the high that you had before is long gone, leaving you tired and drowsy.

“You're just stupid”, you say out loud, talking to no one but yourself. “Why didn't you just leave it alone?”

Your idea that you could mend the relationship between you and your sister by talking to Jb had backfired. Fatally. Sniffing, you feel the familiar prickle of tears, you start to feel helpless, helpless because there is nothing you can do now at this point. Your sister probably won't talk to you, at least for a few days, maybe even weeks. Slightly leaning your head back, trying to stop the tears, you see someone standing on the balcony and you stop moving for a second. It's too dark to make out any particular features, but you can see the honey-blond hair, it's almost glowing in the moonlight. You know who it is and your heart constricts in your chest while embarrassment washes over you. Embarrassment that someone has seen you break down like that, mumbling to yourself and crying so pathetically. You quickly try to shake it off, pretending that you hadn't just looked up and saw them.

A whisper leaves your mouth involuntarily, breaking through the loud silence of distant yells and music, “I'm going to be fine.”

It's a proclamation, a promise to yourself, but somehow, you know that you're also trying to assure someone else. You finally stand up, still shaky and stumble towards the door of Jinyoung's house. The party is still going on the same way as before, loud with no one sparing you a glance as you try to slip between the guests. The adrenaline from before has now long subsided but you're left with a dizzying feeling of exhaustion. The constant noise of the party seems to be drilling into your ears and you stop for a minute, leaning against the wall while closing your eyes. For a minute, you try to relax, catch your breath, and calm down again. Time seems to warp in your own personal bubble and you ignore everything else. When you open your eyes again, you come face to face with someone else. Someone who looks familiar. Strong eyebrows, brown hair and a prominent nose. You recognize him instantly, the guy from the library. For a second, your heart stumbles in your chest, you hadn't thought that you would see him again, well not in this setting. Not with you looking like this. He must have caught you looking at him for too long, because a small blush spreads on his cheeks and he scratches his neck, mumbling something.

“Sorry”, you murmur, your voice raw and shaky. You gulp. “I didn't catch that.”

“I've seen you before”, he repeats slowly. Slowly and carefully. It's almost as if he's deliberately being cautious, like he's speaking to a child and for a second you wonder if there's still traces of your tears left, tears that would explain why he's so hesitant to look into your eyes. “In the library. You were studying.”

“I was.” You can only confirm his words, suddenly a bit embarrassed. Your rub your temple, it's really him. Is your face still red from crying, you wonder for a second as you stare down at the floor, fiddling with your blouse.

“I never thought that I would see you here”, you quickly say, eager to deflect from your current state. Then, you realize what you just said and lift your hands in a defensive gesture. “I mean- It's not that I think you look too boring to be at a party or something...”

Your words fade into an awkward silence, a silence that only seems to hang between the two of you. Bashfully, you look up at him. His cheeks are pink.

“It's true”, he confesses quietly. “I'm not much of a party person.” He gives a small smile, looking behind you. “My friends made me come.”

Seconds that feel like minutes pass before you open your mouth again. “I hope- I hope you're having fun then...” You give him a hesitant smile before someone grabs your shoulder. The fingers press down on your skin, making you wince slightly. The grip is too tight and it's almost as if the fingers are burning into your skin.

“Go to Bambam.”

You don't need to turn around to know who the sharp voice belongs to. Yugyeom is staring at you with narrowed eyes, glaring at you from behind his dark fringe. He rolls his eyes and it's only then that you really comprehend the meaning of his words. Bambam.

Guilt blossoms in your heart, making you gasp. You've completely forgotten about him, “Where-”

Before you can finish your question, Yugyeom lets go of you with a light shove. “Second story”, he spits out. “Go.”

Turning around to give Mark one last apologetic glance, you follow Yugyeom's command, hastening through the crowd of messy, loud, and very drunk young adults, with your head still throbbing. When you finally get to the staircase, you also find him. Bambam, descending them with a worried expression. His eyes look wide and anxious, making you feel even guiltier. Guilty, because he's been looking for you, while you had no thought concerning him. You bite your lip and call out his name. He finds your eyes and you see him letting out a sigh of relief. He takes the last stairs until he comes to a stand in front of you, his hands grasping onto your shoulders firmly.

Hiding behind your hair, you stare down at the floor. “I'm sorry”, you mumble. His firm grip loosens slightly and you can feel his close warmth. Warmth that comforts you. Warmth that is familiar. You're close to burying your head in Bambam's chest, but you swallow instead and look up at him, opening your mouth.

“Can you take me home?”

**

Bambam ends up taking you to the river instead, showing you to a small bench. It's still cold and you shiver slightly. He sees it and moves to take off his jacket, but you stop him. You do not want to feel even guiltier. When you're both perched on the bench, you stare at your feet, feeling your exhaustion from the night’s events. Your head is still aching, yet there's something else, too. You put your hand on the bench and exhale. You feel Bambam's eyes on you, waiting for you to say something.

“I'm sorry”, you say firstly. “I- I shouldn't have left. I saw someone that I had to talk to and I just...”

When your voice stops as Bambam puts his warm hand on yours. A slight breeze makes the trees dance and you gaze at a couple that is standing close to the river, too immersed in themselves. They look older than you and Bambam.

“My sister likes someone and I thought I could talk to him...” You hesitate for a second. The words don't want to leave your mouth. “But-... she saw me and assumed something entirely different.”

You fiddle with your skirt, waiting for him to say something.

“It's not really your fault that she misunderstood you”, Bambam finally says. “But you should clear it up-, for both of your sakes. It's no good to dwell on past mistakes, but Suyeon likes to hold grudges.” He chuckles slightly. “I know that for a fact.”

A pained smile appears on your face at the truth, Suyeon does like holding grudges. It was always something that you've both detested and admired. Detested when it was directed at you and admired when her grudge was a product of her convictions. As opposed to you, Suyeon has strong convictions, she doesn't bend to other people's wills, always staying true to herself, even if it means hurting others. She doesn't fear confrontation.

“I thought I was becoming more mature”, it suddenly breaks out of you, “But it's like the complete opposite-”

Breathless. The words that have left your mouth involuntarily, have left you almost breathless, gasping for air. It's your insecurities, thoughts that are always at the back of your head. Inhaling deeply, you look over at Bambam, his eyes are so bright, comforting. Your head feels like it's going to explode and at this point, you're not sure whether it's because of your exhaustion or because of Bambam.

“It's normal”, Bambam admits slowly, sounding wise beyond his age, all of a sudden. “It's normal to feel that way.” He glances at the sky for a second and then back at you. His fingers grasp yours gently, a gesture of comfort. For a moment, you revel in that feeling, in the fact that he, too, must have wounds. Scars from the past. Insecurities.

“You've felt that way before, too”, you state. It's a guess, but Bambam gives you a pained smile, looking resigned. Then he exhales slowly, his fingers holding onto yours tightly and his voice rings hollow and full of sorrows when he opens his mouth next. “I still do.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to KricketSC80, my lifesaver who always amazes me by finishing the tedious job of beta-ing so quickly.

You're still thinking about Bambam when you're walking down the dim street. He had comforted you yesterday, but he also shared some of his pains with you. You feel closer to him in a way, because in that moment, when you were both sitting together, he opened up. It had been more than just small talk. When you finally open the door of the building, you breathe in. The smell of vinyl and the sound of loud music greets you, it's a combination that has become familiar. You had gone through the choreo a few times at home, trying to remember the steps. It didn't turn out as badly as expected, so you're feeling more prepared for this lesson.

It must have shown in your expression, because a few steps later, a voice teases you. “You're so happy to see me?”

K is standing close to the door, tying her hair up into a messy ponytail while looking at you. A smile is tugging at her lips and she looks as fashionable as ever.

“Yup”, you retort, feeling happier now that you see her. “I couldn't wait.”

She gives you a playful wink and beckons you forward, closer to her. “Did you like it last time?”

“I...” Well, you did. Kind of. Of course, there was Yugyeom, too. Yugyeom who seemed to abhor you for some unknown reason, but even though his dislike for you was obvious you had to admit that he is a good teacher. Maybe you can just endure it, maybe Yugyeom is going to realize that you're not so bad after all. Maybe...Scratching your head nervously, you look at K. She's still looking at you, waiting for a response.

“I liked it”, you finally say and she fakes an over exaggerated sigh of relief, her ponytail finally done. “I'm glad then.” She pulls down her shirt. “Who knows, if you're dedicated, you might even make it to my group of more advanced students.”

You laugh at her. You probably wouldn't even make it to the intermediate level, not in this life time, at least. K raises her fist into an encouraging gesture and gives you one last smile, before leaving you. You hesitantly head over to the practice room. It's already pretty full, but you recognize the girl from last time, Somin, and walk over to her.

“Hey”, you mumble and she turns to you with a grin on her face.

“Hey, no lagging behind today, please!” She says it with a playful tone, but you blush nonetheless, pouting a bit.

“I won't”, you promise. “I even practiced at home a bit.”

She fakes disbelief and shrugs “We'll see the results then.”

Your playful banter stops when Yugyeom enters. He towers over most of the students in class, you notice, he's wearing all black again. You frown slightly and look away. You hear him greeting everyone, then he puts on some music and everyone gets ready to warm up. You copy Somin again, but when the music changes to the one from the routine last time, you actually get into it, dancing with a bit more confidence this time. You're not perfect, of course, but you think you're doing at pretty good job compared to last time. That's what you think at least.

“Right foot forward.”

Yugyeom's voice cuts through the loud music, harsh and commanding. A few girls turn slightly to giggle at you and you realize that he must have been talking to you. Scolding you, you've missed a step, biting your lip, you do your best to keep up, glancing at Somin, to check if you're missing anything else. When you're done, Yugyeom stops the music, the music still reverberates on the air. He introduces the next steps, a series of moves that ends with a slight spin, nothing too dangerous. You all go through it again and Yugyeom moves through the rows of students, giving them tips on how to improve their posture. You can't help but stare at him through the mirror, although he must be older than you, he looks younger than Bambam. Maybe it's his smooth skin or the hint of a boyish smile that seems to tug at his lips when he's not looking at you. Though, seeing him teach and help the others makes him look more mature. You let out a slight sigh and get back to repeating the steps. You should stop pondering about useless things.

You get back to practice, the spin at the end makes you slightly breathless and you end up smiling at Somin, wanting to share your feelings with her. “I know I'm not very good at it”, you let out a smile, “but it's so much fun.”

She stares at the mirror, concentrated and focused on her own footwork. Distractedly, she opens her mouth to reply. “Well, at least you acknowledge that you're not good at it.” Then, she lets out a giggle and you pout again. You have made progress!

When Yugyeom appears behind you, you stand still for a moment, His eyes are narrowed, as he stares at you with a disparaging glance. You don't say anything and go through the steps again, trying to be unabated but your skin tingles under his gaze. You end up making a wrong step, the spin turns into a stumble.

Letting out a scoff, Yugyeom shakes his head. His dark fringe falls in front of his eyes. “I'm sorry”, you let out quietly. “I can do it again.”

His gaze is cold and he scoffs before continuing, not giving you a chance. “Your back isn't even straight and your feet are in the wrong position. It's the left foot that has to go first.”

You look at your feet timidly. You can't help but feel like a kid in elementary school being scolded by her older teacher. Why does he have to sound so rude every time he opens his mouth? Can't he convey his words in a more polite way? Your lips curl downwards as he moves on to Somin. When his tone suddenly becomes polite your expression turns into one of disbelief. Dance practice continues despite that and finally ends. You're panting and breathless, lying on the floor as everyone slowly trickles out of the room, Somin bids you goodbye and leaves. After giving you everything, you're still too exhausted to move, you bury your head in your hands, slowly regaining your breath.

“Don't come again.” Yugyeom's voice suddenly cuts through the silence.

“Wha-”

He cuts you off before you can say anything. Cuts you off before you can even fully register the meaning of his words. There is no hint of the gentle tone he uses for the other students. “I said don't come again. You're disturbing everyone else.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and you feel your cheeks turning red. His words weren't particularly loud, just loud enough to be heard and you look up at him with disbelief, your breathing becoming faster at his icy glare. Yugyeom is standing a few meters away from you, his arms crossed against his chest, his dark eyes fixated on you. Your heart thumps against your ribcage and you breathe in quickly, your chest heaving up and down. Strangely enough, you think of Suyeon for a split second. In moments like this, you would love to be her. You would love to just be able to tell him off. Ask him the thousand questions that are tormenting your mind right now. Ask him why he's treating you so unfairly. But everything you manage to force out is a quiet and pathetic whisper.

“I- I'm sorry.”

The words ring hollow. You don't even know what you're apologizing for, yet you're unable to say anything else. Anything. You stare down at the floor, waiting in the painful silence and it's only a few seconds later when you hear a quiet scoff. Then the door gets slammed shut. You're left alone in the practice room. Quietly, you stand up and grab your things, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand and breathe out, running out of the door of the practice room.

 

**

 

When you're sitting on a bench in the school yard the next day, a girl approaches you. A girl that has short, black hair and cat-like eyes. Sharp. Calculating. Her steps have a sway to them and she looks confident. For a second you feel envious at this stranger. You have never seen her before, never talked to her before, but she abruptly stops in front of you, looking down at you from above. Her lashes are long and dark and her skin seems flawless. You blink and lift your head slightly, glancing at her.

“You were at Jinyoung's party, weren't you?” She crosses her arms against her chest, eyeing you for a few seconds, making you gulp. “My cousin's friend saw you.”

Her cousin's friend. You tilt your head. For a second you wonder who she's talking about. But you can't remember talking to someone at the party who has a cousin at your school. You can't remember talking to anyone at all, hearing her exhaling impatiently, you open your mouth.

“I- I was there”, you reply quickly and nervously, straightening up. The memories aren't exactly something that you want to think about, actually it isn't something that you want to talk about either. Not with a stranger at least

“How did you get invited?” she suddenly asks, her tone demanding an answer. “It's for university students only.”

It's for university students only? You feel queasy for a second and place your hands under your thighs, afraid of unconsciously beginning to fiddle with the hem of your skirt, of showing openly that even the slightly hostile tone of a stranger can make you feel so uncomfortable. You didn't know.

“I-...” Your voice comes out in a stutter. You can't lie. You just can't, but you can't tell her the truth either, knowing how interested everyone in this school is in the newest and juiciest rumors, telling this girl what really happened would just give fodder to the rumor mill.

You see her rolling her eyes and for a split second you're reminded of your sister. Then, the girl uncrosses her arms, proposing something. “Just take me with you next time.”

**

When you head to the library, you think back to your encounter with the girl. You hadn't responded to her demand, making her roll her eyes again, but after that she disappeared, leaving you alone. Shaking you head at the thought, you ascend the steps, arriving at the area for students. Most of the tables are empty, but when you peer at the table on the left, you see someone familiar, someone that you haven't seen since this weekend. Looking up, he meets your gaze. Your eyes lock for a second and he freezes, his eyes wide before quickly looking away. You feel your own heartrate picking up speed, but decide to go to him to greet him nonetheless. He had seen you notice him, not greeting him would be nonsensical very impolite. You head over to his table slowly and put on a slight smile. He must have known that you're here, because he averts his gaze even further and fixates on his book, but when he scratches his neck with one hand, you know that he isn't really immersed in the books.

“Hello”, you force out and he looks up immediately, but still avoids your eyes. His brown hair covers his forehead. It looks kept and orderly.

“Hello”, he greets back, mirroring your own words. His voice sounds smooth, but he's mumbling his words, swallowing the last syllable. Then you're both drift into an awkward silence, mainly caused by the fact you are both introverts, shy.

You lower your gaze timidly, deciding to just go and look for your table. “Then I'll just...” You turn to leave, but before you can take a step, he stops you with his words.

“You can stay here”, he offers politely. Then, adding, “The table is big enough for both of us.”

The table is originally meant for four people. There are four chairs, but study materials cover two thirds of the table. Books and folders, notes and various pens and highlighters, yet he brushes them aside as you look at him with hesitation. Reluctant to step out of your shell even more, greeting him was already a bit... As if sensing your reluctance, he opens his mouth. The corners of his lips tugging upwards slightly, into an awkward half smile. “It's better than studying alone.”

You're unsure for a second. Unsure not just because you usually study alone. Peering at him, you slowly put down your backpack, sinking down. “I'll take a seat then.”

You perch down on the seat and unbutton your jacket.

“Mark”, he suddenly says as you're putting your jacket aside. You look at him with confused eyes, tilting your head to the side.

He wets his lips with his tongue and you quickly look away. “My name is Mark.” The name is foreign, you realize, yet his pronunciation sounds perfectly clear. You reach for your backpack distractedly, getting out your study materials.

“It's nice to meet you, Mark.” You repeat his name, letting it roll off your tongue. “I'm Juyeon.”

You both continue working after that, quietly and efficiently without a sound. It's only when you're stuck with a particularly difficult math problem, that you release a sigh. You startle at the sound of it and raise your head slightly. Looking up, you see Mark seemingly immersed in his work. He's submerged in the warm light of the afternoon sun, the warm rays painting the shadow of his silhouette against a bookshelf.

“Are you having trouble?” he asks suddenly, not looking up from his book. His voice echoes across the empty library. As if embarrassed by the sound, he scratches his neck and you look at him. He's still staring down at his book, not meeting your eyes.

Did you distract him with your sigh? You blush slightly and look at your page again, your page that is filled with possible solutions scribbled down with your pencil. They are all approaches that had turned out to lead to nothing. “Sorry if I'm being too loud”, you mumble.

“You weren't being too loud”, he clarifies, clearing his throat. “I just wanted to offer my help.”

“Your help?” You look at his with surprise. His face is still imbued with the pale orange light of the sun, but it's undeniable. He's blushing.

“Math isn't my major”, he explains. “But I'm not too bad at it.”

“Not too bad?” you repeat pondering over his offer for a second. It can't hurt, right? Showing him the page and the particular equation that you're stuck on, he looks at it for a moment before jotting something down, then he pushes it back to you.

You raise your eyebrows and stare at the page. It's just a simple thing that he corrected, really, he just subtracted one number that you hadn't thought of before and you touch your forehead, feeling a bit stupid. “I didn't think about that”, you admit with embarrassment, staring at him dumbly. “Thank you.”

You can see him smiling slightly and then he looks down again. What is it with him and avoiding eye contact? He's even worse at it than you are.

Eager to break the silence, you open your mouth again, venturing into the slight uncomfortable field of small talk. “What is your major then?” you ask, referring to his earlier statement.

You peek at the cover of one of the books on the table and see atoms. “Physics?” you guess, tilting your head.

“Similar. It's chemistry.” He's still pretty tight-lipped, you notice, giving you such a short and precise answer. You go on.

“That sounds pretty cool. Do you want to go into research?”

Mark hesitates for a second before he answers, “Yes.”

Then he looks at you for the first time this afternoon. Looks at you with his brown eyes that are narrowed because of the sun light. For the first time that day you get a good look at his face, his angular nose, dark eyebrows and his eyelashes that leave a shadow on his pale cheeks. For a moment, no one says anything, silent as you find yourself staring at the male in front of you.

“What is your major?” Mark asks suddenly.

“M- My major?” you repeat, startled by his sudden question. You stare at him dumbly for a second, then you see him nodding and realize. He had incorrectly assumed that you were a university student, just like him, for a second you're taken aback.

“Ah”, you force out with embarrassment. “It's not like that. I'm still in high school. I'm in my last year.”

 

**

You look at the white plate in front of you. The white plate that is probably more expansive than all of the crockery you have in your kitchen at home combined. On the plate is a soft and tender chicken breast. The menu used fancy terms to describe it, but looking at it, apart from the small drizzle of sauce on the side, it's really not all that different from the chicken you eat at home, only more expansive.

“What do your parents do?” you ask, suddenly curious. Bambam is expertly handling his vegetables at the moment, slicing the broccoli into small pieces but at the sound of your voice, he looks up.

“My father works in trade”, he explains. For a second, you almost see his expression turning dark, but when you blink, it is bright again. It must have been the lighting in this restaurant, playing tricks on your mind. “He has his own company back in Thailand, but they've been branching out into other countries.” Bambam picks up a piece of broccoli. “Like Korea for example, but they're also present in North America.”

You fall silent at his words. He told you before that his father works in import export, but hearing his words now, it feels like quite an understatement. You would have never guessed that his father has his own company.

“Are you surprised? I don't seem like a future company heir, do I?” Bambam asks with a smile on his face. His voice sounds teasing, that you almost fail to notice the hint of insecurity that is hidden in his smile. Almost.

You stare at his white dress shirt and icy blond hair, deciding to tease him. There's something in you that desperately aches to see him smile brightly again. “That's true.” You tilt your head and stick out your tongue playfully. “You look more like an idol.”

Bambam blushes at your playful words that were meant to cheer him up. Then he quickly gets back to cutting through his broccoli again.

“Now, that I think about it, you would look great in this famous idol group.” You start humming the catchy tune of a song that you had heard on the radio, copying the signature dance part, too. When you look around timidly before dabbing slightly, Bambam finally breaks out into a laugh.

You continue talking comfortably after that and when you're finished with eating, Bambam takes you home in his car. When you're standing in front of your house, he suddenly takes your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. His hand feels soft and warm. His smile is there again and his eyes are bright. You're relieved, for a moment, the two of you just stand there, gazing at each other. It's quiet, so quiet that it almost seems like the world has come to a standstill. You feel Bambam's warmth, it has become so familiar, your muse. Holding his hand like this. Then, suddenly, he presses you against his chest, enveloping you in a hug, embracing you gently. The sudden gesture knocks the air out of your lungs and when you finally take a breathe again, your bodies have separated leaving you feeling cold. Only the blush on your cheeks is proof of the fact that Bambam had just surprised you with a hug.

“I'll see you soon, ok?”

Before you can answer, Bambam quickly gets back to his car and you can hear the sound of the engine starting.

You're still slightly dazed when you open the door, sinking down against the wall near your wardrobe. You stay like that for a second, touching your burning cheeks with your hands. It's as if you can still feel the warmth of his hands, his body pressed against yours.

“You're the girl Bambam is dating.” The voice of your sister breaks you out of your reverie. You open your eyes to see her standing a few meters away, her arms akimbo. But her stance isn't belligerent. She looks almost... amused. “I didn't believe it at first, but it's really you.”

She comes closer, observing you intently.

“Do you like him?” she asks, her eyebrows raised. She's staring at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

You straighten up slowly, not meeting her eyes. “I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner”, you mumble. Desperate to make use of the fact that she's talking to you again, you open your mouth, completely disregarding her question. “I'm sorry about what happened, too. I just wanted to talk to him to help yo-”

Your sister cuts your off. “It's ok.”

You look at her, flabbergasted. She rolls her eyes when she notices your facial expression.

“What?” she questions. “I'm over it!” She gestures with her hands. “I was immature. I didn't have a chance with him to begin with...” She stops for a millisecond to give you a sarcastic smile. “Especially if girls like you are his type.”

You tilt your head and pout, eyeing her. Girls like you? What does she mean by that?

“You and I are too different”, she points out. Then she shakes her head. Her eyes are dark, but you can see the pain in them. “I can't say that it doesn't hurt anymore...” she frowns and then extends her hand. “So don't you dare talk about this guy in our house even though I'm over it.”

You smile at her contradictory words. She claims to be over if, but doesn't want you to mention his name. Not that you would have talked about Jb anyways. You're happy that the conflict is resolved, but despite the resolution, there's still something that weighs on your shoulders and you bite your lip softly.

“I- I had no intention of dating him”, you quickly clarify when Suyeon lets out a breath. “And I'm pretty sure that he wasn't really interested in me either. What you saw was only... a misunderstanding.”

You exhale feeling as if a sudden weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

Your sister rolls her eyes again. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that”, she jokes. “But only if you cook Spaghetti today. I haven't eaten all day and I'm seriously so hungry...”

You take her hand and she pulls you up. Quickly taking off your shoes, you follow her into the kitchen, only halfway listening to her rambling about her busy day. Your thoughts are drifting off to somewhere else, to when you first stepped foot into the house and your sister asked you those four words. The question that now weighs on your mind, the question that you don't have an answer for.

Do you like Bambam?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates might come a little slower soon


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out, as always, to my fantastic beta-reader kricketSC80 :)

You're still thinking about your sister when you open the door of the library. It was surprising, but not really, how quickly she had changed her mind. That was the thing about Suyeon, She is obstinate, but also very impulsive. Of course, you're happy that her change in thought played in your favor this time, but...well, not that it is important anyways. After your argument and the subsequent resolution of the conflict, the both of you went back to your natural state of peaceful coexistence, talking to each other only when necessary. Although you thought that something in Suyeon's demeanor had slightly changed, she had given you a playful nudge when you went out the door this morning. Probably the first friendly gesture since you had gotten into high school, it actually made you feel bit better about yourself, almost like the entire JB fiasco hadn't happened. Yet still, her words kept replaying in your mind. She was still hurting and it wasn't like her swollen eyes were easy to ignore. She shushed you when you brought it up, but it was obvious that she had been crying, crying over a relationship that never began, over what ifs, over a boy with copper hair and twinkling eyes. You feel pity for her.

Spotting Mark, you break out of your thoughts and head over to his table. As if he was expecting you, his study utensils only cover one half of it and now that you're looking at it, it seems surprisingly well organized. Organized and neatly arranged, with books lying on the table and erasers and pencils kept together in 90 degree angles. Maybe this kind of precision is to be expected from a chemistry major. For a second, you're reminded of your sister, whenever she decides to study, everything is messily strewn across the table….pencils, pens, sticky notes, just everything.

When she decides to study that is.

You look at Mark for a second, pondering over something. Now, that your sister has sworn of Jaebum... You halt. Your thoughts are drifting into an entirely wrong direction. You really have to stop yourself from following nonsensical thoughts.

Shifting from one foot to another, you open your mouth. Your voice sounds soft. “Can I- Can I sit down?”

Mark looks up at hearing you, slight surprise evident in his features. His features. Now that you're thinking about it, Suyeon must like this type. Pale, smooth skin, dark hair and handsome face, she did like JB after all.

No. No. No! Not happening.

You shake your head, mentally scolding yourself. Then you look at Mark. Had he already answered your question?

Mark is busily evading your eyes, his fringe falling over his eyebrows, but then he gives you a small nod. Timidly, you put your backpack on the ground and get out your own study items, sifting through all the notes you took in class. It seems so loud in the quiet of the library, in the silence that lingers in the air that even the act of rummaging through your folder feels louder than usual.

It's only when you've been working for an hour or longer, that you find yourself staring at Mark again. He seems responsible, you notice, mature and hard working. More mature than Suyeon.

Embarrassed, you bury your face in your hands. Now that you began thinking about it, you can't help yourself. Would it really hurt to play matchmaker again? Of course, the first attempt had turned out catastrophic, but it had been the first attempt and you didn't have to force them together, you could just give them a slight push in the right direction. Make them stumble into each other, make them introduce themselves to one another. Maybe it won’t work, but it was worth a try, right?

“Mark?” you finally whisper. He looks up at the sound of your unsure voice, but as always his eyes don't meet yours, but seem to be fixated on something behind you that you can't see. It's still quiet and he seems to be waiting for you to say something.

“Do you- Do you have a girlfriend?” As the words leave your mouth, he coughs, his eyes turning wide. His thick eyebrows shoot up and you quickly turn to rummage through your backpack for an unopened bottle of water. You hand it to him, but he shakes his head. His coughing has stopped, but his face has turned slightly red, for a moment, you are happy that you are not the only one with this embarrassing trait.

“I'm fine”, he insists, nodding his head slightly and with embarrassment while you look at him. His fringe falls over his eyes again and you suddenly turn timid and stare down at your book. You have never been so straight-forward before, never asking questions so bluntly.

Feeling your cheeks heating up, you fold your hands together, shaking your head. “Sorry, I- I shouldn't have asked”, you mutter, deciding to put your hands on the table again. If only he could forget that you ever asked this question.

Then, unexpectedly, Mark opens his mouth. “I don't have a girlfriend.”

You hear him hesitating for a second, then you hear the distant shuffling of footsteps, the sound of someone turning a page. You hear the rustling of leaves. Then Mark speaks again. “But, I do want to date.”

Without wanting in, your heart starts thumping in your chest and you bite your lip, fiddling with your fingers again. He wants to date, you should feel happy, really. If he wants to date that means you can introduce him to your sister if she's up for it. But why is it that you suddenly have a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach?

Before you can open your mouth to ask him whether he knows Suyeon, your eyes glide over your wrist watch. Startled, your eyes widen. Dance practice starts in seven minutes! You jump up quickly and start throwing your study utensils into your backpack. “Sorry, I have to leave”, you explain. “I'm late for something!” Hurriedly snatching the last pencil from the desk, you quickly give Mark an apologetic glance. “I'm sorry”, you repeat. Then you break out into a light jog.

**

You still arrive late. Everyone is already warming up and Yugyeom narrows his eyes at you, as you slip between the rows of students, trying to find your place next to Somin. She gives you a questioning glance, but continues stretching her leg. As expected, you feel Yugyeom's hard glare on you as you practice and you furrow your eyebrows. After he scolded you last time, you wanted to prove him wrong by working harder. Working harder on your dancing, working harder on everything, but instead you are late. When you start with the routine after warming up, you put everything into your dancing.

You are actually following everyone else quite well today, you notice. Even Somin stops to give you an appreciative nod when you're done, but still, when you look at the front, you can see Yugyeom's tall figure looking into your direction with a sullen face.

Is he ever going to be content?

When the class ends, you lie on your back, completely exhausted. You hear someone putting away the speakers, and when you look up, you see Yugyeom. Your eyes meet for a second. Just a second, but the coldness in his eyes makes your blood freeze in your veins. It catapults your heart to run at a frantic pace, threatening to break out of your ribcage.

Then he adverts his gaze and you let out a silent breath, a sigh of relief. And it makes you feel like a coward. With that thought, a tiny defiant spark of determination ignites inside of you. A tiny spark that makes you voice out the question that has been weighing on your shoulders for so long.

“What is your problem?”

For a moment, you're stunned. Shocked by the fact that you had spoken up also catching Yugyeom off-guard. His eyes widened, turn his face into a grimace, then his expression quickly changes and he lets out a scoff.

“You are.”

You are his problem? His words hit you, making your heart constrict in your chest with pain. As soon as the flame of bluntness came, it left. Extinguished. Gone. Your next words stumble out of your mouth as you straighten up weakly.

“I know I'm not good at danci-”

Yugyeom cuts you off. “You're fake.” It's just two words, but they make you tremble.

“W- What?” Fake? You furrow your eyebrows. What does he even mean by that?

He suddenly sneers. “You think I don't know why you cling onto Bambam? I've seen you with them. JB, Youngjae, Mark. Do you think I'm stupid?”

Your eyes start prickling at his words. At his mention of the other boys Yugyeom saw you with. You don't even know what he's getting at, but you know that he's wrong, he's completely wrong.

Yugyeom comes closer, eyeing you closely and with disdain. His eyes are dark. So dark, that you take a step back, trembling.

“What?” He lets out a scoff, taking another step. The distance between you is nonexistent at this point and you flinch. “You're just after him for his money! Bambam refuses to see it.”

What? Your mind is blank for a second. For his money? You let out a quiet breath. Does Yugyeom really think that? Does Yugyeom really think that you're so despicable? Your throat suddenly feels raw and dry. The mention of the other boys escapes your head and your cheeks are burning up as if you're getting sick.

“You- You're wrong”, you suddenly whisper. Your heart thumps in your chest. Thumps so loudly and strongly. You take a step back. “Have you ever considered that maybe I like spending time with him?”

And before he can say anything else, you grab your bag and run out of the practice room. You don't hear the door falling shut after you, you don't hear anything, just the constant drumming of your heart that is still beating so fast. When you finally have to stop at traffic light, you're wheezing. Panting. Your fingers move up and touch your face, feeling the wetness. You're crying. Crying because you finally found out why Yugyeom hates you. Crying because you rather wouldn't have found out about it at all. The light turns green, it's time to go home.

**

“And? What do you say? Are you up for it?” Bambam sounds enthusiastic and you can't help but bite your lip. Your right hand is fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater.

“I...”

Somehow, Yugyeom's words have an invisible weigh on your mind. A weight that traps you, pushes you into a corner, making you unable to say anything.

“It's just a small party”, Bambam offers. “We'll celebrate the return of a friend from Hong Kong.”

“Is it even right if I come then?” You don't want to disturb a private reunion. Especially not one between Bambam and his friend that you don't even know, it probably wouldn't be appropriate, would it?

You look through the window down onto the dull green of the trees. “If it's something private...” You trail off, not knowing what to say, but Bambam just laughs.

“Well, you know my friends, right? The main objective is to party. You don't have to come if you don't want to...” You can hear still the disappointment lingering in his voice, so you quickly shake your head.

“No, no, it's not that I don't want to come. I want to spend time with you...” Somewhere in the distance you hear the screeching of a car.

Bambam clears his throat. “You really do?” He sounds so hopeful and happy that it makes the weight on your shoulders feel even heavier. Why is it that you feel this way? Ever since Yugyeom told you how lowly he truly thinks of you, you can't help yourself. Your thoughts drift off, take you to somewhere you don't want to go. What if Bambam is going to think the same thing as Yugyeom? Or worse, what if you really are the way Yugyeom described you? What if you really are a fake? Only with Bambam because of his wealth? What if you really are...?

“That's good! That's great actually. I'll come pick you up then, ok? I have to get to my lecture now, but I'll text you the details later, ok?”

Bambam's enthusiasm doesn't get through the thick wall that you've built up, through our clouded mind. You only nod your head weakly and hang up.

It's difficult, really, being sensitive. You start thinking all kinds of negative things, start echoing the criticism and hurtful words other have thrown your way in your own mind. And you never stop either.

Putting down your phone, you see a new message on your screen. Your mother wants you to go to the grocery store to pick up some rice and vegetables. You let out a sigh at that but go to the wardrobe and throw on a thick cardigan. It's only a short walk, luckily, nothing too much, but after the call you would rather roll up into your blanket and go to sleep for a few hours or maybe a few days.

When you arrive in the store, you get a small basket and browse through the aisles. You put in the things your mother wanted and then head to where the sweets are, brushing past a couple of chattering girls. When you're finally there, you feel like you're in heaven. Candy…Chocolate…Mint chocolate…White chocolate…Sweet…Sour. You lick your lips and kneel down, the decision is pretty hard, but you finally decide on some cherry candy, deciding to heal your heart by indulging in the sweet taste. You move up and nearly bump into a shopping cart, the plastic almost hitting you. Startled, you jump back.

“I'm sorry”, you instantly apologize, grasping onto your basket. “I didn't see-”

Your words stop suddenly. Your throat turns into the Sahara desert, a tap that no longer has any water. Staring at you with bored eyes, is Youngjae, who once brought you home after a party. Youngjae who saw you breaking down at the last one. You gulp at the thought and, finding it necessary, apologize again with a deep blush painting your cheeks. He doesn't acknowledge your apology, but when he moves to swerve his shopping cart, you get a peek at the contents. It's just a few boxes of ramen.

“Let me pay for you”, you quickly offer. “As a thank you. You- you gave me a ride that day.”

Unimpressed, he moves his cart forward, but you quickly put your hand on it. “Then let me at least buy you some candy.”

When he stops moving, you give him a grateful smile. His hair still has the same honey blond color as when you last saw him. Everything looks the same, apart from his clothes, he's wearing sweatpants and a big sweater. He looks... warm. Comfortable.

Stopping your thoughts, you quickly look at the shelf. Your cheeks are warm. “What is your favorite chocolate? Milk chocolate?” You throw around random guesses.

Then, you hear a sigh escaping his mouth. It sounds tired. Ignoring it, you turn around slightly, not looking at him. “Do you even like chocolate?”

“I like white chocolate.” You flinch at the sound of his voice behind you. It sounds sharp, but not harsh. Youngjae's voice is surprisingly warm instead. Quickly grabbing a chocolate bar, you chuck it into your basket and then turn to the other side.

“I would have pegged you as the dark chocolate kind of guy...Kind of bitter, you know?” He stays silent at your joke and you close your eyes in embarrassment. Why did you have to say that?

The two of you head to the checkout together. You with fast strides, while Youngjae is a few steps behind you. You quickly put your items on the conveyor belt and then reach for your wallet. There is no wallet. You check again, no wallet. You quickly look into your, throwing a glance to your side you can see the items moving closer to the cashier and you start to panic. You check your pockets. No money. No coins. No bills. Nothing! Your cheeks are heating up as you freeze for a second. Should you just take the items and put them back or should you convince the cashier to wait a few minutes so you can go home and get the money?

“I'm paying.”

Youngjae's voice breaks you out of your thoughts. Before you can stop him, the cashier scans your items and you turn around with wide eyes, looking at the boy with honey-blond hair.

“I'm so sorry- oh my god. I'm sorry.”

He only gives you an aloof expressions as he gets out some bills. You quickly grab your rice and vegetables and chocolate. Without the basket, your arms are full and you struggle to secure the items in your grasp. Then you stare at Youngjae, he hands the cashier a bill and you memorize the prize of your items in your mind. You have to pay him back as soon as possible.

“I-”, you hesitate for a minute. “I'll pay you back when I see you next time?” It's more of a question. Would there be a next time? Would you see him again? You balance the rice in your arms to keep it from falling and tilt your head. “You'll be at the party, right? For Jinyoung's friend?”

It's a blind guess. Grasping at straws. But it turns out to be right.

“Jackson?” Youngjae says. You're confused for a second. Jackson. You hadn't heard the name before. Following him out of the store, you open your mouth again, “Is he the one from Hong Kong?”

Youngjae throws you a glance. “That is Jackson”, he deadpans.

You tilt your head at the sight of his aloof expression and then give him a last smile. You have to turn left now. “I promise I'll give you the money.”

You hear Youngjae sighing. “Just get into my car, I'll give you a ride.”

You hesitate. “I can just-” Youngjae's bored eyes meet yours and you can't help yourself staring at them. The tiny mole beneath his eye, the way his lashes curve downwards. The dark brown of his iris, they are eyes to become lost in, labyrinths of shadow and light.

“Ok.”

As you get into Youngjae's car, you try to justify your decision in your mind. You can pay him back this way, can't you? You'll give him back his money as soon as you arrive at your house, his money. That is why you got into his car. You bite your lip for a second and stare down at your hands. Unconsciously, you had started playing with them again. You stop and glance at Youngjae. His eyes are focused on the road, so focused, that you don't even want to say anything. His hair is down this time, honey blond covering half of his face. His strong nose and smooth skin. His thin and pink lips that form a straight line. Your eyes wander down slowly, crawling almost. Youngjae's chest is raising up and down regularly under the seatbelt.

“We're here”, he finally says, starling you, tearing you out of your reverie. You turn to the window, and it's true. The familiar sight of your house is greeting you. When the car comes to a stop, you open the door and get your purchases, surprised when Youngjae grabs the rice. Did he see you struggling? You smile bashfully at that thought and go to the front door. Youngjae trails after you, putting the items down on the steps and then turn around.

“I'll just get inside and get the money...” you awkwardly trail off when Youngjae shakes his head.

“I'm not a beggar”, he says without malice. “Keep it.”

You smile at his words. “See it as a taxi fare then for driving me... Two times.”

Then you skip up the steps and get inside, coming back just a few seconds later with the exact amount that you owe him. You stretch out both of your hands and offer it to him, staring at him from under your lashes.

When he takes it and his hand brushes against yours for a millisecond, you swear you can almost see a hint of a smile on his lips.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda obvious at this point but thanks to kricket again for beta-ing this chapter!

“Are you Youngjae's girlfriend?” It is a simple question, yet it makes you jerk forward in your seat with surprise, as you stare at the girl in front of you with wide eyes.

 

Youngjae. Girlfriend? You’re dumbfounded, flustered. Somehow, those words don't make any sense in your mind, not at all. You tilt your head to the side, your lips suddenly feeling dry, as your words come out in a stutter, “Y- Youngjae's girlfriend?”

 

She nods enthusiastically making her long dark, sleek shiny hair whip up and down. She has a fringe and behind that inquiring eyes that peer at you, eyes that seem to observe every expression that you make as if gauging your reaction. She seems friendly though, curious, yes, but friendly. The thought makes you feel a little bit less nervous.

 

“Yup, Youngjae. The guy with blond hair. The superhot one.” You can't help but blush at her words, as she leans in closer with a conspiratorial grin, then she whispers, “We saw you at the store with him. Are you dating?” Her pitch goes up at the end.

 

When your slow brain finally picks up the meaning of her words, when you finally register what she's asking, you quickly shake your head with a sheepish expression. You aren't Youngjae's girlfriend, not even close. Unconsciously, Yugyeom's word flash in your mind, his cold eyes. What would he say if he knew of this? He would certainly feel that all of his assumptions are right, wouldn't he? Nervousness suddenly washes over you, enveloping you, threatening to drown you. You feel sick.

 

“I'm not”, you quickly force out, emphasizing the 'not'. “I'm not dating him. He- He's just friends with my sister.” You gulp and stare at the girl in front of you. “Seeing him there... It was... a coincidence.”

 

A coincidence? For a second you're still, was it really? You recall the smile that appeared on your lips when you saw the honey colored hair, was that a coincidence, too?

 

You stare down at your hands that are fiddling with a pencil and try to push those thoughts aside. You can deal with them later or never.

 

“You're not?” You hear the girl repeating your words. She looks at you with obvious disbelief. “I totally thought you were...” She trails off and stares at you, more intently this time, but you continue to look down at your hands silently.

 

“Well, then...” Somehow, she gets the message and leaves you alone after that.

 

You sink into your seat when she's gone, cowering, ducking your head and then burying it in your hands. Was that how your life was going to be now? Being interrogated by random girls about your chance encounters with the university students who'd somehow gotten themselves... involved in your life?

 

You sigh into your hands. Helpless, perplexed, but not hopeless.

 

**

 

When you stumble into the library, you see Mark again, sitting at the same place. Without asking, you put down your backpack and perch down into the seat opposite from him.

 

Your mind is still busy, thinking about your encounter with the girl. You're an introvert. A homebody, and shy. That were the words that you would use to describe yourself. What had happened in the last weeks that your life had changed so much?

 

You stare at Mark, who hasn't even acknowledged you yet. He's breathing in slowly and gently. His brown hair is flat, laying against his forehead, almost covering his eyes. His eyelids are pale, like the rest of his face and his lashes flutter as he stares at a text in front of him, suffused by the pale sunlight. You want to ask him something, but at the same time, you don't want to disturb him. He looks too peaceful.

 

Silently, you get out your own study materials and open a book. Maybe, the topic that you want to bring up can wait. Maybe.

 

You highlight your text and take notes. You even put in some extra effort by using different colored pens and underlining every important word, but as you're writing, it feels... like you're just putting something off. Like you're trying to distract yourself or buy yourself some more time. Then, exactly forty minutes later, you bring it up. The topic, the words that have been burning in your mouth. Red, hot coal. Acid. Poison. That's what it feels like. You spit it out.

 

“Are you coming to the party?”

 

It's not exactly what you wanted to say, you then realize, but it's a start. A start that's miserable and lousy, but a start nonetheless.

 

Mark looks up and, as always, averts your eyes. Evades your gaze. Let’s your words reverberate on the air, the silence linger until it becomes almost suffocating….almost.

 

His eyes are brown and deep and you can't find an answer in them, yet you still stare. Look at the small corner and then the gentle curve, at the way his long an dark lashes move as he blinks calmly.

 

“Yes.”

 

It's just a single word. A simple answer. Yet it suffices, makes your trepidation melt away, makes your miserable day just a little bit better. It makes your heart stumble in your chest with... excitement? Anticipation? You don't know what it is, but you break out into a smile. A smile that is so silly that it stretches from one side of your face to another, stretching your mouth so far apart, revealing your teeth, revealing you gums. You're happy, for the first time that day, you feel happy.

 

Mark blushes at the sight of your big smile, your big, silly smile and he mumbles something, something audible yet unintelligible, and buries his head in his text again. You don't mind. You don't mind at all.

 

When you run home that afternoon, you see your sister getting into the house.

 

“Wait!” you shout, just as she is about to close it. Her eyes find you and she waits, beckoning for you to go faster.

 

“Did you just come back from the library?” she asks, frowning. “It's already dark.”

 

You smile, still giddy because of Mark's words. You jog up the steps and stop right in front of your sister.

 

“Suyeon”, you say, panting. “You're going to the party, too, right?”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Of course I'm going.”

 

You break out into an obvious grin. “I want to introduce you to someone there.” You smile. “He doesn't have a girlfriend and he's handsome.”

 

Closing the door behind you, you stare up at her with expectant eyes, waiting for an answer.

 

It's silent for a few seconds.

 

“Handsome?” your sister repeats, narrowing her eyes and clicking her tongue. She sounds slightly suspicious, not totally trusting your judgement, but you nudge her shoulder and wink playfully.

 

“Totally handsome”, you promise.

 

**

 

You're almost asleep, wrapped into a cocoon of thick blankets, when your phone lights up next to you. It's a bad habit, really, keeping your phone beside your bed. Your mom once jokingly warned you about the dangers of radiation, but you still keep it on your nightstand.

 

Tiredness presses down your eyelids and they flicker, as you grab your device. When you see the identity of the caller, you open your eyes hastily.

 

“Ba- Bambam?” With nervous hands, you press your phone against your ear. You're wide awake all of a sudden.

 

“Hi”, Bambam greets you, sounding apologetic at hearing your tired voice. “Sorry for waking you up. But I did something a bit stupid...” He trails off and you hold your breath for a second. Something stupid? Did he get into trouble? Did he get cause an accident? Your mind gets swarmed with all kinds of horrible images. Then you hear Bambam laughing nervously on the other side of the line. Then, something rustling.

 

“I'm standing on your lawn right now. I know, it's silly, but I haven't seen you all day and I couldn't wait until the day of the party. Can you come out?” Everything comes out in one jumbled sentence, one nervous and awkward mess and you feel your heart thumping in your chest as you hear his words.

 

“You- You're on our lawn right now?” you repeat with disbelief as you throw off the blanket, standing up and reaching for a cardigan to throw on. You open the door to your balcony, the cold air hits you instantly, making you shiver. Everything is dark.

 

Bambam lets out a breath that you can hear. As you turn your head, you can also see it.

 

His silhouette is imbued by the moonlight, but you can make out the contours. Tall. Phone pressed against his ear. Stuttering on the other side of the line. His chest heaving up and own regularly.

 

“You don't have to, if you don't want to...”

 

You stare down at his figure, feeling a sudden shiver running down your spine. “You- You're crazy”, you mumble, stifling a laugh. “You're absolutely crazy.”

 

At the sound of your voice, he looks up. His blond hair looks like it's shining in the darkness and you finally let out that augh. It sounds so loud in the dark silence.

 

“You're crazy”, you say again.

 

Stepping closer to the balcony, Bambam still has his phone close to his ear. Then he opens his mouth and you can hear his voice so clearly.

 

“I'm crazy about you.”

 

You break out into a laugh so hard, that you try to stifle it again, pressing your hand against your mouth, trying not to wake up your parents or your sister, but you can't stop, it's just too cheesy.

 

You see Bambam raking a hand through his hair with embarrassment. You can almost imagine his awkward but bright smile. His pink lips curling up.

 

“Do you want to go on an adventure?” He suddenly asks, hesitating for a second. Then, as if to assure you, he adds, “It's nothing bad, I promise.”

 

“Wait a second”, you utter. “I'll come down.”

 

You quickly put on normal clothes, unsure what he wants to do at this late hour and then sneak down the stairs onto the porch where Bambam is already waiting. Now, that you see him up close he looks even more breath-taking. Dazzling. Bright. An angel in the darkness. Your angel.

 

Your heart thumps in your chest at that silly thought. He's not yours.

 

When you're just an arm’s length away, Bambam pulls you into a sweet hug. Your bodies fit together, melt into each other so nicely. He's warm, so warm as his hand presses against the back of your head softly and he smells so good. You can feel his breath against where your shoulder and neck meet and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The hug is short, too short, but at the same time, it lasts just long enough. You sit down after that, perching onto the porch of your house.

 

“What are you doing here?” you finally whisper, turning to him. His hand finds yours, fingers against fingers. Warmth…Comfort….Affection.

 

“I want to take you somewhere.” He smiles. And now, you're not just imagining it, you're not just recalling a faint memory. Up close, you can really see his smile and it's better than everything you could ever imagine.

 

“Have you ever been to the planetarium?”

 

You end up going there, a wide and open space that only provides dim lighting, it's completely empty. You squish into a seat, sinking into the leather next to Bambam. Then it turns completely dark in the theatre. You're silent for a moment, only hearing your own breath and then the ceiling gets illuminated.

 

Hundreds, no thousands of twinkling stars stare back at you. They glitter and sparkle so beautifully, that you let out a gasp.

 

It's probably a projection, you think, but the more you stare at it, the more real it seems. Like you could reach out for the stars if you just stretched out your hand for a tiny bit. Just a few centimeters and you fingers could touch them-

 

“Do you like it?” As if the atmosphere demands it, Bambam has turned to whispering. “It's been my favorite place ever since I moved to Korea.” His hands finds yours again, caressing the soft skin, making you shiver. Once again, Bambam is revealing something about himself, you notice, showing you a part of himself and you want to return the favor. Give him something back, tell him some of your secrets.

 

Your heart thumps in our chest.

 

You open your mouth and let out a shaky breath. “I love it”, you then whisper.

 

You start talking after that. Pointing out stars that are particularly beautiful, as you continue holding hands and then, after a lot of time has passed, when you stifle a yawn, Bambam looks at his watch.

 

“I'll take you home. You're tired.” Ever so perceptive, you muse as he gives you a smile. You wouldn't have minded spending more time with him, in fact, you would have liked, too, but you have to admit that you're tired.

 

“Ok.”

 

As he gives you a ride home, you give him an update on your life. Schoolwork. Your busy parents. The development with your sister. You apologize for driving to the party with her instead of him. Bambam seems disappointed for a second, but you quickly explain that you want to introduce her to someone at the party.

 

“I met him at the library and we studied together”, you mumble. You lean against your seat tiredly and stare at Bambam. “He seems so responsible.” Letting out a yawn, you blink a few times and then continue. “I honestly can't wait to introduce him to my sister.”

 

You see Bambam nodding. Then he turns to you slightly and only for a second. “And what is the name of this responsible guy?” he asks, his pink lips forming a pout.

 

For a second, you stare at him. Could it be that he's... jealous? You want to laugh at that thought. It seems impossible. He couldn't possibly be...you stare down at your legs.

 

“Mark Tuan”, you then answer, fiddling with your hands bashfully.

 

“Mark Tuan? Wow, that's pretty surprising.” Bambam turns left and then his eyes find yours again. “I actually know him. We're friends.” He smiles at you, so bright and dazzling. It is a small world, after all.

 

“What are you studying?” he then asks and you frown at the thought of those subjects.

 

“Math...and chemistry”, you answer slowly and with distaste. “They're the two subjects I have to work for the most.”

 

“Chemistry?” Bambam repeats. His eyes crinkle with amusement. “I can teach you chemistry, too, since the both of us... have chemistry, you know?”

 

You burst out laughing. Did he really just say that?

 

**

 

“I promise, I'll look for him right away and then I'll introduce you, ok?”

 

You throw a last glance at your sister and Seulgi, the latter gives you a big smile. She was giddy the entire time while driving, excited at the prospect of Suyeon meeting a new guy.

 

Then, you turn away and start skimming through the crowd, searching for Mark. It's hot and stuffy, but in a way, you've become a bit more used to it, you notice, scurrying your way through the crowd. It's only when you go a few steps further, that someone grabs your arm.

 

You turn to see Jinyoung staring at you. His shiny black hair is pushed back, exposing his forehead and dark eyebrows as well as his dark eyes. You don't stop to marvel though, because he opens his mouth, interjecting your train of thought.

 

“Well, what a pleasant coincidence seeing Bambam's beautiful girlfriend here”, he speaks deliberately. You can't help but frown at his words, feeling uncomfortable not just because of the way he still holds onto you.

 

You force out a shy 'hello' and look at the floor instead. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.

 

“Don't be shy”, Jinyoung commands. He tips your jaw with his pointer finger and tilts it upwards. Without wanting it, you obey and stare right into his eyes. They seem like obsidian, a deep black, you can barely tell the difference between iris and pupil, you notice, gulping nervously.

 

His face is only an arm’s length away from yours, with a dark controlled, sinister expression. What is he up to?

 

“I need your help, so to speak. A small favor.”

 

It's not a request, though, it's an order.

 

Your heart stops in your chest. You feel the signs of trepidation, as your hands start feeling cold, from the anxiousness that is starting to building up.

 

“I- I can-” Your words come out in a stutter. Jinyoung's grip on you tightens just a tiny bit. He interjects before you can say anything else, a smirk on his face.

 

“You can help? Well, it's a pleasure then.”

 

He looks behind you for a second, before he pulls you close. His expensive cologne penetrates your nose and you shut your eyes close before his lips meet yours.


	13. Chapter 13

The kiss lasts just for the fraction of a second, Jinyoung's lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth, barely touching them. Yet the contact is still there, it’s cold, hot, and electrifying, almost like drowning without any water. You're frozen for a moment, immobile, stuck in place. Then, when you get back to your senses, realize what is happening, you push him away with all the force you can muster up at that moment.

“What are you doing?” you yell out. As you gasp for air, panting, because Jinyoung had just kissed you. You look at him as the shock still surging through your veins, but it isn't just shock. You feel disgusted as you brush your hand against your lips as if it could wipe away what had just happened.

Looking up, Jinyoung's smile is almost a smirk, victorious and nonchalant. It makes you angry. Makes you angry that he just kissed you without your consent. Without asking you. “I needed to shake off an annoying harlot”, he explains casually, shrugging, then dusting some nonexistent dust off his shoulders.

A harlot? You repeat the word in your mind, letting out a scoff. How much more unlikable can he get? You clench your fists, your nails leave tiny half-moon imprints in your skin. Enraged, you spit out the next words.

“But that doesn't excuse you using me.”

Not to mention that you don't consider his words an apology. No. They're not. You wouldn't even consider them an explanation.

Suddenly, interrupting your thoughts, but not stopping your anger, an arms snakes around your shoulder, places itself around your neck. You startle at the sudden movement, ready to twist the arm away.

“Couple's spat?” someone then asks with a cheery voice, stopping you from chastising Jinyoung any further. Stopping you from doing anything else.

“Jackson”, Jinyoung lets out, tearing his eyes away from you. His eyes that still remain dark, but before the two can greet each other, you get back to your senses and tear Jackson's arm away from your shoulders.

“I'm not Jinyoung's girlfriend”, you clarify with narrowed eyes, trying to control your anger that is still cursing through your body like a sudden sickness. A fever that has taken you over. You exhale loudly, letting out a huff. “So- No, this is not a couple's spat.”

You feel Jinyoung's eyes on you and turn to him. Dark black eyes holding a controlled expression. The victorious expression from before is gone, but you can see something else in his eyes now. Something that you don't want to consider. Interest. And it makes you even angrier.

Jinyoung smiles lightly. Luxuriously. Directs his next words at you. “I'm sorry”, he says, voice dripping with condescension as if the matter isn't even something he should be apologizing for. “I suppose you'd be content now. An apology especially for you.”

You change into a belligerent stance, crossing your arms against your chest and stare up at him, not giving in to the height difference. “I'm not going to accept it.”

“Well then”, he says, turning from you to the other boy, as if your lack of acceptance is completely irrelevant to him, “allow me to introduce you two to each other. Jackson meet the beautiful Juyeon.” His hand extends in a gesture to show you to his friend. “Juyeon meet Jackson.”

You huff at him ignoring you. Then, said boy, Jackson, steps into your line of vision with an awkward smile. Despite the awkward smile, he's undeniably handsome, you notice. A striped black and white jumper, prominent nose and dark brown eyes, framed by thick eyebrows. His hair has a dark brown color with the roots being even darker. You even notice two small earrings in his earlobe as you quickly glance over at him.

Jackson's eyes widen a bit after looking at you. “Juyeon?” he repeats, eyebrows shooting up. Recognition flashes in his eyes for a second. Then he opens his mouth, honest words spilling out. “You know, Bambam has been talking about you a lot.”

You freeze at his words. Bambam has been talking about you? At once, your anger abruptly dissipates. You're flustered instead. Shocked. Heat rising into your cheeks, you stare at the floor for a second until you hear Jackson again, speaking with that smooth voice that fits his good-natured smile. For a moment, you're mute.

“You know, now that I've met Bambam's girl, I can't wait to see Mark's.”

Your eyes widen at that statement. Mark? Mark's girl? You freeze for a second. All kinds of horrible scenarios flashing in your mind.

“Ma- Mark has a girlfriend?” you force out, looking up at Jackson. Jinyoung is still standing by your side, you notice, watching the scene play out with great interest, a mere spectator, but the anger that you felt before has been pushed back into your mind, replaced with worry instead.

Suddenly and for a short second, you feel stupid. Has Mark been lying to you? Is he a cheater? A two-timer? A player? Was your first impression of him so wrong? Worries regarding your sister invade your mind, taking over your thoughts.

You can only hear Jackson laughing at your question. “Well, he's been tutoring this girl or something...” He trails off and touches his chin for a second. Your alarms shrill. You don't like where this is going. You don't like it at all.

Then Jackson waves his hands, correcting himself. “No wait, you know, he has a girl he likes and they study there together.” He snaps his fingers, beaming at you. “That's it.”

At his words you feel numb, stupid and your brain shuts down. You barely register his next words, only notice the way his mouth opens.

“I'm sorry, I have to go to the washroom”, you mumble. You can feel Jinyoung's gaze on you, still, as well as Jackson's confused eyes, but you ignore both and trudge upstairs with slow steps in a dazed.

When you finally find the bathroom, you lean against the counter, barely registering the marble. It's expansive and luxurious like everything in this house. The face that looks back at you from the mirror is pale. So pale that you can see the blue and purple veins on your eyelids. Unlike before when you still felt the anger surging through you, you just feel tired. Exhausted. Lifeless. You sigh at your reflection for a second, feeling pathetic.

“Something is going seriously wrong”, you utter. Not just wrong, you muse. If you had planned a route, a road that you wanted to follow, life had now swerved into the opposite direction, going another way. The completely wrong one.

You frown at that thought and then gather cold water in your hands, lightly splashing your face. After that you take a small towel that lies on the counter and press it against your face. You stay like that for a second, no a minute, maybe longer. The numbness that you feel because of the cold matches your emotional state. You let out another sigh at that thought, it's not good to wallow in self-pity.

When you're done, you try to open the door when someone stops you. You look up just to see JB's twinkling eyes. Eyes that you don't want to see right now, eyes that make you feel guilty. You need to talk to Mark.

“Princess”, Jb lets out, reaching for your arm, but you turn away, weakly attempting to narrow your eyes at him. His tall figure, his hair the color of copper and his dark green sweater.

“Are you always this impertinent?” you finally huff, twisting your arm away from his grasp.

“You ok?” he suddenly asks, staring at you with curious eyes, surprised by your reaction. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You shake your head at his words. “I don't have time right now”, you mutter. Not even sparing him a last glance, you slip away, disappearing in the crowd. You have to find Mark or your sister….right now. You can decide what to do after that.

Surprisingly, your wish gets granted after scurrying through the crowd downstairs, but it isn't just one of them that you find. It's both. Mark and your sister, talking amicably with drinks in their hands. Your sister looks happy. She's laughing at something Mark is saying, leaning close against his shoulder. Too close.

You stand still for a second, only your hands trembling. Jackson's words are still seared into your mind, making you burn up. What are you supposed to do? Just barge in and confront Mark with what Jackson told you? Demand him to tell you the truth?

Then something dark. Soft hands that cover your eyes.

“Can you guess who it is?” a light voice whispers into your ear. Warm breath against your skin. Goosebumps.

You recognize the voice immediately, without having to turn around. There's no need when you heard it so many times before. “Bambam”, you let out a soft whisper.

He removes his hands, his fingers grazing your shoulders, ghosting over your skin. “You guessed correctly. Do you want a prize, then?”

A prize, huh?

You turn around at that to look at him. He's wearing simple black pants and a blue dress shirt. Blue. Again. Your color. He gives you a smile as he notices your gaze stopping for a second, making you blush. What prize, you muse for a second, just seeing him is enough.

“Let's go to the balcony”, he proposes then, taking your hand into his. His that feels warm again, comforting and for a moment you're so distracted by it that you nearly forget about your sister. Your sister and Mark, but then the thought that slowly crept away, gets back at you, hits you with full force.

You hesitate for a second and, as if sensing your reluctance, Bambam stops, too. “Are you okay?” he asks, facing you with a worried expression. Ever so perceptive.

“I-...” Your voice trails off. And that's when you do something you shouldn't have done. Something that is wrong no matter how much you think about it. You ignore Mark and your sister and just put on a smile, squeezing Bambam's hand, “No, there's nothing wrong.”

Together, you go up the stairs, meandering through the crowd hand in hand until you realize where you are going. Pushing the glass door to the side, Bambam leads you out onto the balcony. The distant whiff of smoke crawls into your nose. It's dark already but you're in awe when you notice the rich and intricate designs on the white pillars. Maybe it just serves as a distraction from the guilt that is beginning to make you feel dizzy.

“Do you like them?” Bambam asks, his eyes gliding over your face. You stop gaping at the figures that are carved into the stone for a second and nod, “It- It's really pretty.”

He smiles brightly at your words and together, you sit down. Bambam takes your hand into both of his, placing them into his lap as you crane your neck to look up at the stars.

He tells you the name of a particularly beautiful constellation. Something beautiful. Ancient. Then he points out another one as you feel his eyes on you.

“Juyeon”, he suddenly says, his usually soft voice sounding loud against the quiet backdrop. “There's something I've been meaning to ask you.”

You turn away from the stars and look at him. His eyes are so clear and bright, just like stars on their own. His blond hair covers his forehead, he's more beautiful than any star could be and he's closer.

“I want to show you what the stars look like in Thailand.”

Your heart stops for a second. You look at your intertwined hands, then at his face. Your mouth has gone dry.

“W- What?”

Bambam smiles. “I want you to come to Thailand with me during the semester break. It's the same time as your holidays, so I thought you could go with me. We could look at the stars and I could introduce you to my family. Only if you want, of course...” The storm of his words abates after that, slows down as he trails of awkwardly.

But his proposition has raised a storm in your heart, a tempest of emotions. Feelings. Shock being the most obvious one. You are shocked. Thailand. Thailand with Bambam. With Bambam and his family.

Before you can produce any intelligent words, before you can string together a coherent sentence, he opens his mouth again.

“I know, it's a lot, isn't it? I don't want to pressure you.”

You hold your breath for a second, blinking fervently. Bambam is right, it is a lot. It means you have to make a choice. A decision which requires you to pick. To choose between 'yes' or 'no'. Theoretically, there couldn't be a maybe. There couldn't be a way to avoid this, but you do anyways. You do avoid it and try to trace the fine line.

Putting on a smile, you turn to Bambam, observing him as you realize that you're going to hold off on making a choice. Hold off on going a step further. Maybe, that is what you are, not just an introverted homebody. Someone shy. No, you're not just shy. You're indecisive. A coward, afraid of making choices. Of making choices that could turn out to be wrong.

The stray light from the inside is caressing Bambam's skin, imbuing his face, tinting it. His eyes meet yours for a moment. Knowing. Pained. Pained because he must know. Pained because he is still as perceptive as the day the two of you met. He closes his eyes for a second, the corner of his lips moving up.

Then he leans over, quickly, and leaves a kiss on your cheek. A kiss that lasts only for a moment. It is short, sweet, a promise, and one that is reassuring.

Bambam sinks back, leans back. His cheeks are red and his smile has turned awkward. He moves his head back as his lashes flutter. Before he can open his mouth, a sound shatters the silence, a sound that breaks the silence into pieces and leaves it in shards.

Bambam frowns and gets out his phone. His expression changes after looking at the display. Becomes professional, like when he talks to clerks or waiters. Polite but distant, he pushes his hair back.

“I'm sorry. I need to talk to Jinyoung for a second.” Giving you an apologetic smile, he moves to stand up. “I will be back in a few minutes or so. If it gets too cold you should head inside. I don't want you to catch a cold, ok?”

He laughs after that, after his cheesy words and swiftly straightens up. Giving you another once over, he lets out a breath. “Really, don't wait out here in the cold, ok?”

You nod slightly. “It's ok. I'll head inside if it gets too cold”, you promise. His expressions eases at your words. He gives you a last smile before heading inside.

When he's gone, you sink back down, your eyes downcast as you stare at your feet. Your thoughts circle around Bambam. Random thoughts of Thailand appear in your head as you inhale, that's when you notice it.

You take another breath, just to make sure. Sniffle even, but it's clear. The scent of smoke, the scent that had seemed so weak before, wafting into your nose as if carried away from the house to the outside, now seemed so much stronger…closer.

You frown at the scent and crane your neck, trying to figure out where it is coming from. Standing up, you notice a shadow, more like a silhouette. You move closer and when you go behind the pillar, you can see it. A smaller balcony, not less impressive than the one you were on with Bambam, and there's Youngjae.

Youngjae standing there. With his bored eyes, eyes that seem to bore into you. For a second, you're startled. Did he hear anything? Did he hear what Bambam said? Did he hear what Bambam asked you? You blink repeatedly, rubbing your fingers against your thighs.

“Did- Did you hear anything?” You bite your lips after the words leave your mouth, nervousness threatening to take over.

His expression is indifferent. He shrugs slightly, his shoulders moving up.

“Hear what?” he asks.

You don't know if he actually didn't hear anything or if he's just feigning ignorance, but for the moment, it's enough. Enough to pretend that he really didn't hear anything, enough to imagine that he really didn't hear anything, enough to make you feel relieved.

You gulp and your eyes glide down. That's when you notice the cigarette between his fingers. Now you know where the smoke came from at least, you think for a second. Yet the sight makes a frown spread on your face.

Youngjae seems to catch it, as he moves his fingers, retracts them to hold the cigarette behind his back discreetly as if he could hide them from you now.

“Do- Do you smoke?” you suddenly blurt out, snapping your head up. Right after the words leave your mouth, you want to take them back. Obviously he smokes, he's holding a cigarette in his hands. What else would he do with it? Sheepishly, you stare back at the ground.

“Yeah.”

You feel his eyes on you after his short statement, piercing through you. Is he gauging for your reaction? No, he couldn't be, could he?

“Does it taste good?” You then ask, curious all of a sudden.

For a second, it' silent after your question. Not the type of silence that you bask in and revel in, not the type of silence that you can relax in. You shiver for a second, coldness creeping up and pull your arms closer, rubbing against your skin. Youngjae face is a mask. A mask that makes it impossible to say what he's thinking. Then, he opens his pink, chapped lips. Two words spoken in his sharp voice.

“It doesn't.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my wonderful beta Kricket!

It's only when you hear the sound of footsteps, that your eyes widen. Turning your head away from Youngjae, you take a quick look. 

“Juyeon? Are you here?” It's Bambam. Undeniably. You have to go. You need to go.

Quickly, you throw Youngjae a last glance. His stoic face. His cigarette. He has a certain air of tragedy to him, like the heroine in an old movie, maybe even more like the sad anti-hero. With that thought, you give him an apologetic smile and hasten back to where you came from, right into Bambam. Bambam who's bright eyes are scanning the balcony, looking for you. 

“Hey”, you say, your voice only amounting to a whisper. Coming closer to him you notice. His smile that isn't really a smile. The brightness that is his smile suddenly seems artificial. Fake. Not like his usual real smile. It is because he seems to be hiding, hiding something behind his smile.

Distress? Annoyance? You can't tell. And that realization hits you. Bambam, who you're so used to being a perspective person, a person who can pick up the slightest change of your expression, is himself hard to read at times. You frown at that thought. 

But being unreadable doesn't mean that he won't reveal anything about himself, does it? He doesn't have to show his emotions on his face. You can just talk. Talk to each other. Share secrets. Confide in each other. Is that it? Could you do that?

“It was just something related to the company. I just had to make sure that Jinyoung had...”, Bambam hesitates for a second, looking for the right words. And his hesitation makes your frown increase. “...gotten a message”, Bambam then finishes, looking at the floor. 

Gotten a message. You fiddle with your sleeve.

“Is it- Is it something bad?”, you then ask. Bambam lifts his head and stares at you. His eyes are full of adoration. Affection. Love. So unlike the mask he wore just seconds ago. You could never distrust him. 

A smile appears on his face. He realizes that you've caught him. Seen it. Seen the momentary struggle that had been inside of him. Then he reaches for your hand. Again. It's warm and soft and so familiar. He assuages you with a calm voice.

“It's nothing bad. You don't have to worry about it.” He comes closer, so close that you can feel his warmth. Not even one step away. This moment, when you're so close. You don't want it to stop. Then he lifts his hand, reaches out and uses his finger to trace your eyebrow, eases away any evidence of a frown. 

You shiver. Is it the simple gesture? His warm finger on your cold skin? 

You don't know.

“Let's get inside.”

 

**

“So, have you already introduced them to each other? Your sister and Mark, I mean.”

Bambam's words tear your out of your reverie, out of your fantasy that you had had been residing in for the last few minutes. Like a fairy tale. Something once upon a time. His words make you nibble on your lip. Fiddle with your sleeve. Again.

His gaze rests on you with added expectation, anticipating an answer. And suddenly everything comes back. The anxiousness you felt before. The worries and woes regarding Mark. The weird feeling. 

“I...” You've avoided it. You've avoided them. Guilt hits you. It doesn't come slowly, doesn't crawl up your spine. No. It just hits you, punches you. Makes you feel queasy and numb. You stare up at Bambam, feeling stupid. Stupid. Dumb. Silly. His eyes meet yours. They're dark but warm. Knowing but still asking. Waiting. 

Is it wrong that you just want to give up? Drown in his hug? Fall asleep in his arms? Forever. Now. Forget about your sister and Mark and Jackson and everything else?

“Hey, are you ok? You don't look like you're ok. I mean you look pretty but-”

Bambam's words gush out of his mouth, a surge of worry and concern. Your eyes downcast, you play with a thread on your jeans. 

“Bambam, I-”

I'm sorry. I'm a liar. A lie by omission is a lie too, isn't it?

You both stop walking, stand just in the middle of the room, the crowd of people around you. Loud. Young. Excited. Wasted. And that's when the sound of a pearly laughter cuts through all of the noise. A familiar laughter that knocks the air out of your lungs.

Suyeon's laughter.

You spin around immediately.

It's her.

Of course, it's her. Sitting on a sofa surrounded by a crowd of people with Mark next to her. Right next to her. Mark who is wearing a black button down and is focused on her. Mark who taught you in the library. Mark who is the center of your sister's attention. You recall Jackson's comment. His words. 

He couldn't... He couldn't have meant you, could he?

You tremble at the thought, trepidation making your knees feel wobbly. Your sister seems to be smitten. Her eyes are glued onto Mark. You feel incredibly guilty. Guilty because you don't want to experience something similar to the Jb fiasco again. Never. But her laughter is so bright, almost comically loud and she seems to be so happy. So content just by basking in Mark's presence. Totally in her element.

You halt in your tracks, stop. It's not your turn. It's not the time. You shouldn't. It would seem as if you were trying to steal her thunder. Ruin her night. Rain on her parade. The arrogant, ignorant younger sister who ruins her sister's chances with every guy.

You should do the right thing. You could do the right thing. You could tell her right now. But you can't-

That's when the lights go out. In a flash, it's dark. No source of light. Just noises. Curious hooting. Excitement. Excitement because no one knows what's going on. You don't know what's going on. Confused, you reach for Bambam's hand. Stability. Your anchor.

“What- What is happening?”, you whisper, squeezing closer to him, any thoughts regarding Mark and your sister leaving your brain just as fast as the light had been flicked off. Squeezing closer to his body that emits warmth, the only familiar thing in this strange darkness, you frown. His breath reaches your skin, your head, your shoulder. Makes you shudder.

Suddenly, a single light goes on. There's Jinyoung, walking tall and undisturbed in front of a girl. She's pushing a cart with a gigantic cake on it. It isn't just gigantic. It's enormous. Several layers, colorful marbled icing, font that forms words you can't decipher. Dozens of candles. A cake so pompous and extravagant that the amount of money spent on it must have been exorbitant.

Everyone starts cheering and that's when you finally get it. When you finally understand the reason behind all this. The original reason for this party. As you feel Bambam squeezing your hand, you see Jackson stepping up. He's beaming. A bright, blinding smile on his face. 

All of a sudden, there are poppers and Jackson leans down to blow out the candles. As the flame flickers and then disappears, everyone cheers, claps, shouts 'Welcome back Jackson!'. For a split second there's a thought in your head. How many of them actually know Jackson? How many of them are just like you: here as guests? Invited by someone else? Essentially just using this party? And... does Jackson mind?

His wide grin makes it seem like he doesn't. Yet you can't help feeling guilty. He seems like a good natured person, seemingly not bothered by any negativity.

The lights turn on again. The clapping gets louder again and to your surprise, your hand leaves Bambam's and joins in. Is it courtesy? Pity?

But nonetheless, you clap. Then, a flash. It's brightness almost blinding. Another one. And one more. And more after that, so many that you stop paying attention to them, treat the cameras they come from only like a distant thunderstorm far away. Your eyes glide over the crowd as you take a step back, back into the warm embrace of Bambam whose arms find your shoulders to hold you closer against himself.

Then you see him. Wearing dark demin pants and a striped jumper, he stands tall against the rest of the crowd. There's a smile on his face, a smile that seems so uncharacteristic for him that you look again, just to make sure. Make sure that it's real. A real smile that makes you feel almost warm for a second. And that's when he notices.

Yugyeom's eyes meet yours and in a matter of split seconds, his smile disappears as if it hadn't even been there. Your heart shrinks in your chest, shrivels, cowers in fear. Yugyeom's eyes are frozen. Icy. Cold. Before he can roll his eyes, you avert your gaze, look somewhere else. Sheepishly, your eyes find the ground, staring at your worn out sneakers.

Bambam's hand, you notice, feels warm and too noticeable against your skin. You frown. It's not his fault that you're feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. You bite your lip as he starts drawing a pattern on your skin, a number maybe, a letter perhaps. All that you know is that it leaves a tingling sensation. Makes you feel less self conscious. 

“Are you really feeling ok? I know I asked earlier, but I just want to make sure that you're feeling comfortable...”

His words are still full of worry. They make you feel guilty. Guilty because he worries about you. You, who is so naive and immature. You, who probably doesn't even deserve his concern.

“Can you take me home later?”

 

**

 

“Look, there's this photo of you two in Instagram.”

Your classmate's words make your head snap up. And really, there in her hands, on her phone, in the picture in the rights corner, not even meant to show you, but still showing you, there's you. You and Bambam. Pressed against each other. Close. Too close to just be friends in a friendly embrace. You stifle a sigh that threatens to leave your mouth and shake your head. 

Your classmate, a pretty and enthusiastic girl, a girl who likes to know the juiciest and newest rumors about everyone, insists, “Are you sure you're not dating him? You two look awfully close. I heard he's from Thailand and his father owns a pretty big corporation, theoretically he could have any girl yet he's at a party with you...”

As she goes on, she doesn't realize that you stopped listening. Her words hurt. Make you feel insecure. Insignificant. But it's true. Bambam could have any girl he wanted. He has a good personality. Wealth. Good looks. 

And you? Your personality is lackluster at best, you're not particularly rich and your looks aren't really outstanding either. What is it even that Bambam likes about you?

Right after that thought flashes in your mind, you shake your head. You shouldn't. You shouldn't be so negative. Insecure. You shouldn't doubt yourself, shouldn't doubt others. 

You look at your classmate once again. She's still rattling on about something. You smile apologetically and interject. 

“Sorry, I- I really don't know what you're talking about.”

And with that, you put your head down into your arms, effectively ignoring her.

 

**

 

When you head to the library after school, you're still deep in thought. Thinking about the photo that coincidentally captured you and Bambam. Strangely enough, it doesn't bother you too much that someone took that photo, but it's your insecurities that have been revealed once more, doubts that make your little self-esteem shrink and shrivel up.

It's only when you see Mark sitting at the familiar place next to the window, that you break out of your reverie. 

Mark with his neatly organized study materials. Mark who you're suddenly not sure about. Is him being shy just a facade or...? You don't even want to think about the other possibility. What Jackson said at the party. Those words. It can't be true. It cannot.

Deliberately, you steer away from Mark acting almost as if there's a magnetic force pushing you away. Because that's the way it is, isn't it? Opposites attract, but when you have the same thing twice, two north poles for example, they would just repel one another.

Maybe, it should be that way for you and Mark, too. Starting from now.

But then he looks up and for what feels like the first time in forever, your eyes meet. His pupil, his iris. Though you know they are brown, they seem almost iridescent in the warm light of the sun. Iridescent but blank. Like a white canvas that has yet to be painted on.Showing no emotions. 

But at that moment you know. As you stare at the boy you've been studying with for the last few weeks, you just know. Know that the girl Jackson mentioned is you.

You're the girl Mark likes. 

He's not a cheater, nor a two timer. He's not despicable. No. He's just unlucky to have fallen for the wrong person.

You walk over to him carefully, feeling his eyes on you. Your eyelids flutter close for a second before you reach his table and you let out a shaky breath.

“I'm sorry.”

I'm sorry for what? 

But, he understands. Mark understands that you can't return his feelings. That you don't feel the same way. At least you think he does. Does he?

And then you want to give him an explanation. You open your mouth while you're holding onto your right hand to stop it from fiddling around.

“I'm sorry for leading you on. I- I know it doesn't make it better but I didn't mean for it to happen. I wanted to tell you earlier but then there wasn't the right timing...”

At your words, he lets out a laugh. White and pearly, it silently shatters through the quiet of the library. You couldn't tell by looking at his eyes, but you can tell by hearing his laugh. He's hurt. But then he opens his mouth.

“It's no big deal.”

Confused, you stare at him with wide eyes, when you suddenly hear a familiar voice, cutting through the silence.

“Juyeon?” You turn around.

It's your sister. Your older sister, who despises studying and dislikes books, has appeared in the library. At the sight of you, she raises her eyebrows, clicking her tongue.

“What are you doing here?”, she asks, sounding suspicious. Her eyes glide over to Mark, a dreamy expression taking over. She smiles as she greets him. 

That's when you decide to come clean. Come clean with her and tell her the truth.

“I- I know Mark. He's the guy I wanted to introduce to you.” You don't dare look at Mark, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. You were just trying to use him, you realize. As a rebound for your sister. Without considering his feelings.

You don't dare look at Mark after that realization. A realization that you should've come to earlier. Instead, you take in your sister who seems content just staring at Mark. It's as if her eyes are sparkling, glistening.

“It must be fate then”, she finally says. 

You're dumbstruck. Fate. What a conclusion. If it's fate, then whatever deity there is, must be playing with you. Must be laughing at the fact that your sister who before wouldn't even touch books with a ten feet pole before on an ordinary day, is suddenly standing in the library as if studying is her favourite way of spending her leisure time just because of a boy. A boy who apparently likes you.

Suyeon plops down opposite Mark, the smile still plastered onto her face. It looks like a grin a model in a toothpaste commercial would wear. She gets out her books deliberately and then turns to you. 

“Anything else?”, she asks, clicking her tongue once. When she has your attention, she squints at you, nodding at Mark who seems immersed in his book. You get the signal, understand what she is trying to say. She's telling you to leave them alone, so they can have a bit of privacy. No awkward third-wheeling sister. Just the two of them.

But you can't leave your sister with him. You did once, but you can't do it again. Not after what Jackson told you. No after realizing that it must be true. 

You just can't.

You open your mouth, ready to come out with the truth, to confess. You have to before it is too late. Before your sister really falls for Mark. Before something like the Jb fiasco occurs again.

Your heart constricts in your chest. Painfully. 

“Suyeon, I...” 

At the sound of your strained voice, Mark lifts his head. Stares at you. And then he shakes his head. In a gesture that is almost imperceptible, yet still there. Still there for you to see and stop your words.

He doesn't want you to say anything. 

And because of that you become a coward again. You shrivel up, blinking at your sister who is eyeing you with unconcealed curiosity. 

And then, instead of being a good sister. Instead of doing what you're supposed to be doing. Instead of doing the right thing, you bow out.

“I- I have to go home now.”

And then you leave your sister and Mark behind. Behind in a library all by themselves. Mark and your sister, your sister who already seems to be smitten with him.

You're a coward.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always: thanks to kricket my amazing beta reader who goes through so much trouble just to ensure that my silly grammar mistakes and poor spacing dont worsen your reading experience :^)

You stare at the wall in front of you. White. Blank. You're not a big fan of memorabilia. You don't collect souvenirs from holidays you've spent somewhere else. So, essentially, there isn't anything interesting on that wall. Yet, you're still staring at it, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Why?

Because of a few words Bambam uttered, a question that left his mouth, spoken into his phone, traveling all the way to you. You, sitting on your bed and staring at the wall. You, who is suddenly nervous, because the decisions you make always come back to haunt you and the decisions you don't make, come back ten times harder.

“Have you already talked to your parents about it?” Bambam sounds so soft spoken and you can imagine the brightness of his eyes and his grin. The expectancy in his voice forces you down in every imaginable way. Makes you sink down onto your bed, your eyes downcast, your mood dropping.

“I- I haven't had the chance yet”, you confess. It's only a half-lie. You haven't had the chance yet because you didn't try. The thought didn't even enter your mind if you were to be honest, but you aren't honest and you feel really bad because of it.

Bambam is silent for a moment. You hear his breath on the other side of the line and it makes your heart constrict in your chest, painfully, making you want to apologize.

“But-”, you stumble over your words, trying to come up with something. To somehow make it better. “You can come over tonight and we can have dinner with my parents.”

It's not the best idea you've ever had, but it's better than nothing.

“Juyeon...” Bambam sounds surprised for a second before he finishes his sentence. “I would love to have dinner with you and your parents. It would be an honor.”

You smile at his response, his words that sound so proper and polite. It makes you feel better about yourself, about your half-lie, about you being dishonest.

“Ok, I will text you the time”, you mumble, closing your eyes for a second. You hesitate for a moment then you open your mouth again. “And can you wear something blue?”

Bambam lets out an embarrassed laugh at your words. Were you being too cheesy with your request? Too straight forward? You shake your head, staring at the white wall instead.

“I will”, Bambam then promises earnestly. Red starts to blossom on your cheeks like flowers in springs. “But only if you wear something blue, too.”

“I can do that”, you stutter, feeling the heat on your cheeks.

Bambam has to hang up after that, though he hangs up with the promise of calling you again and wearing something blue this evening, it is enough to make you feel giddy.

You text your mom after that. A friend of yours finally coming over is probably a dream come true for her and indeed, her response is positive. Still, you let out a sigh of relief at her 'yes'. The only thing that she reminds you of is to stock up the fridge, you don't have enough ingredients to make actual dinner. Salad would be nice, maybe some chicken.

Slipping into your coat, you hum a little melody and then skid down the stairs like a little kid. What you see then makes you halt, freeze up in your tracks. It's the sight of your sister and Mark sitting at the dinner table that is covered with books.

Are they studying? Together?

You pause for a second.

Mark must've felt your stare. Slowly, he lifts his head. His eyes don't meet yours. It's like yesterday in the library didn't happen. He's giving you the cold shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Your sister's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, drags you back to reality. A situation that you're not willing to face…Yet.

“Grocery store”, you mumble, then, putting more strength into your voice, “Mom told me to buy some ingredients because...” You hesitate for a moment, the words not wanting to leave your mouth. “Because Bambam is coming over for dinner.”

You don't want to rub it in. You don't want to make Mark feel uncomfortable, but honesty is the best policy, isn't it?

You shoot Mark a quick glance. He's still focusing on the papers in front of him. When you look back at your sister though, you can tell that she's thinking about something. Then her face lights up and she breaks out into a smile.

“Mark can come, too.”

Her words knock the air out of your lungs.

Mark can come, too?

You grimace and then quickly stop yourself, putting on a polite smile that is directed at both your sister and Mark. You don't know why, but somehow you're reluctant. You don't really want Mark to be there. To be here. With you. Your family. And Bambam.

“We- We are going to be a lot of people then”, you voice out your objection lamely. An objection that isn't even entirely accurate. You're just two people more. Your mom would probably jump around in circles at the prospect of having people over, thinking that she could somehow get you to expand your circle of friends.

Your sister clicks her tongue. “If Bambam is allowed to come here, Mark being here shouldn't be a problem”, she argues. And she's right. It shouldn't, but it is. Well kind of for you, anyways.

You stifle a small sigh at that. “Ok, but make sure to text mom then.”

She rolls her eyes, waving her hand at you. “You know what? I'm gonna call her right now and ask her.” She looks at her watch and reads the time. “She's probably on her break anyways.”

She then turns to Mark with a sweet smile. “You're fine with staying over for dinner, right?” Before he can answer she beams at him. “Just give me a second.”

And with that she stands up to leave the room.

With your sister hastily leaving to make a call, it's only Mark and you. As always, he doesn't care whether it's silent or not, whether someone is saying something or not. He just sits there, quietly and for a second you wonder what your sister, who is more on the talkative side, sees in him. Does she even see below the superficial surface? Does she seek out what is buried behind his good looks? And, more importantly, did you?

Not wanting to think about it, you open your mouth, blurting out a few words.

“What- What do you like to eat?”

It's not the most intelligent thing you've ever asked, not a profound, deep question, but you hope that it can break the ice at least somewhat. For your own sake and for Mark's.

However, said person doesn't react at first. Doesn't even shrug lazily, doesn't look at you.

“Nothing in particular.”

You gulp. Apparently, the ice breaker didn't really work, but when you want to give up, ready to turn around and go, your sister returns.

“Guess what?” she asks, looking at you with raised eyebrows. Then, without waiting for your answer, she continues in an 'I-told-you-so'-voice, “Mom said yes.”

You force a smile at her words. “That's... great. The more the merrier, isn't it?”

You don't want to admit it, you don't want to stay it out loud, but Mark being here would increase the awkwardness tenfold, make everything more uncomfortable and you had somehow hoped that your mom would say no. She could've. She should've. It would have been nice if she had.

Your sister plops down onto her seat again and smiles at Mark. Then, as if thinking of something, she lifts her head again and looks at you.

“Let's eat pasta tonight, okay?”

You don't even bother arguing.

 

**

 

When you arrive at the store, the first thing you think of is Youngjae. You can't help it. The memories of his honey-blond hair, of standing next to him in the sweets aisle sneak into your mind and you can't help but stifle a small smile as you walk down where the pasta sauce is.

It's not really sophisticated, but a simple cheese sauce can never go wrong. You grab two jars and put them into the shopping cart, then you push it to the next aisle. When you get around the corner, you halt in your tracks.

Standing just a few meters away from you, is not Youngjae, but Yugyeom, weighing two sachets in his hands. You don't dare let out a breath, tempted to just make a U-turn and pretend that you didn't see him. Then he turns slightly, his cold eyes meet yours. Yet again, they make you shiver, render you immobile. You bite your lip, every chance of pretending now seeming silly.

Your mind flashes back to the last time you were in the studio together. His fierce expression and harsh words. Does he even remember what he accused you of? He probably doesn't.

You quickly utter a quiet 'hello'. His gaze is still fixated on you, but no words leave his mouth. You nod and then awkwardly try to maneuver the shopping cart around, away from him.

When you've made it two aisles further, you get your response. Yugyeom's loud yell echoes through the store.

“Come to class tomorrow.”

You freeze, just as he pauses. “K wants you to come back.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest at the mention of the friendly girl, the mentor, the instructor whom you've only talked to briefly but had managed to charm you with her laid back attitude and cute grin. At the same time, though, you want to roll your eyes.

Is that everything Yugyeom has to say? Come to class tomorrow. It's not an apology, not even a question, just another one of his rude commands that you're supposed to obey. Obey without questioning it. And it's not like he's saying he wants you back. No, he just doesn't want to be on bad terms with his senior.

How nice.

You shake your head a little, looking at the floor. Do his words even deserve an answer?

Yet... You miss dancing. Sweating. Practicing. Feeling the music in your body. The rhythmic vibration in the spacious studio.

But do you miss it enough to just brush over Yugyeom's words and ignore the hurt he caused you?

 

**

You're still in the kitchen, standing in front of the hob, when the doorbell rings. You quickly take the pot of the stove and hurry to the front door. Opening it, you stare right at a colorful bouquet. Flowers that you can't even name arranged in a beautiful selection. A small gasp escapes you at the sight.

“Hey.” Bambam peers at you from behind the flowers. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Your eyes crinkle in amusement and you wipe your hands against your apron. “Thank you for coming.”

You step aside to let him in, registering with a smile that he is indeed wearing blue. Blue, just like you.

“I bought some flowers for you and some chocolate for your parents. I don't know if they like chocolate, but if you want to you can also have the chocolate and I'll just give your parents the flowers...”

You giggle at Bambam's awkward rambling as you show him where to put his shoes and his coat.

“You shouldn't have gotten them anything. It's okay, really.”

He puts his coat on the wardrobe and then turns to you. “I'm a bit nervous to be honest”, he confesses, staring at you with an air of silent desperation. “I don't want to give them a bad impression.”

For the first time in forever, it seems, the situation is completely different. It's you who feels in her element, at home, cooking and it's Bambam who is anxious and nervous. The thought makes you smile a bit. You decide to make him feel at ease.

“My parents are really easy-going”, you say, looking at him. His bright eyes are wide and his blond hair is neatly combed to the side.

“The worst thing you can expect is... probably a lame joke?”

Bambam seems relieved. He lets out a small breath and then holds up the bouquet. “Ok, where should I put the flowers? Do you have a vase somewhere?”

You scan the flowers. You would probably need three vases for that. Still, you show Bambam to the kitchen where you search through the cupboards to finally produce a big glass vase. Surprisingly enough, he manages to fit the flowers into it. Putting the chocolate down on the cupboard, you notice the label. An expensive confectioner that sells candy at exorbitant prizes.

What else did you expect?

“We're having pasta”, you say, washing your hands under the tap. “Pasta with cheese sauce.” You turn around to look at him. “I hope that's ok?”

Bambam nods. “Yes, sure. If you made it, I would probably eat anything.” He grins. You shake your head and then go on to stir the sauce.

That's when your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. “Sorry”, you say, checking it quickly, still stirring. It's a text from your mother, saying that your parents are going to be a few minutes late.

You tell Bambam about it with an apologetic smile. It's typical of your parents, they bicker a lot which tends to prolong everything, whether it's going to the store or coming back from work.

“Well, we can already set the table”, you propose. “If you don't mind giving me a hand.”  
Bambam smiles at that. “I don't mind getting my hands a bit dirty.”

You break out into an embarrassed grin after his words, hitting his shoulder ever so lightly. “The plates aren't dirty anyway”, you say, laughing.

You open a cupboard to reveal six plates, after that a drawer with cutlery in it. Bambam takes it from your hands and you show him the dining room.

Mark and your sister are still sitting there. At the sound of you entering, your sister looks up. A wicked smile on her face, she cocks her eyebrow as she glances over at Bambam, clicking her tongue as she notices Bambam and you wearing matching colors.

“Hey Bambam”, she greets. Bambam greets her back politely and then looks at Mark.

“Good to see you”, Bambam says to Mark. Said boy looks up in time to see Bambam's wink directed at him. You cringe at the corny gesture while your sister chuckles.

“Give us a second”, she says, “We'll put the books away so you can set the table.”

“Ok.” You nod at her, quite surprised by how friendly she is today. Maybe it's Mark's presence that is making her calmer?

You put the cutlery down on the table as your sister and Mark get their books. When they go upstairs, you start putting the forks and spoons on the respective places.

When you're done, you get back into the kitchen. Bambam offers to grate the cheese and you accept it gratefully. “It should be done in a few minutes”, you say, looking at the noodles in the simmering water.

You feel Bambam's eyes on you and turn around. He catches your gaze and you bite your lip. You're not even in close proximity. He's at one side of the kitchen, you're on the other, yet you feel yourself warming up, a familiar blush spreading on your cheeks. A reaction caused by Bambam's mere smile, by his mere glance, a glance from his bright eyes that always manages to make your heart flutter.

“Stop staring or I'm gonna burn the sauce”, you threaten playfully, but making no move to return to the stove. Your apron is still tied around your waist, lightly wrapped around your body.

“You seem like such an expert cook”, Bambam finally says. “I...” He hesitates for a second, his face becoming red. Rubbing his neck, he shakes his head. “Ah, no, it's too embarrassing.”

Your eyes get wide, curiosity awakened by Bambam not completing his sentence. “What?” you ask.

He shuts his eyes close and shakes his head again, turning around. “I'm not gonna say it.”

“Say what?” you ask deliberately, trying to get the words out of him, trying to coax him. “Tell me.”

“You just look so cute standing there with your apron”, he finally blurts out, giving in, his cheeks fiery red. He puts his hands against them as you laugh a little, embarrassed by his comment, then you sheepishly stare at the floor. Time seems to stop for a moment.

It's only when you hear the sound of the key moving in the lock that you look up again.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates


	16. Chapter 16

When your parents stumble into the house, bickering over something, you throw Bambam another quick glance. As expected, and although you told him not to be, he still seems nervous. Nervous, because he's meeting your parents for the first time. Nervous, because he probably wants them to have a good impression of him.

You would probably be the same way. Nervous. As nervous as Bambam. Who are you kidding, you would probably be worse. Anxious to the point of breaking out in a sweat.

You smile at Bambam, a smile that you hope is reassuring, and then bend down to get the sieve for the noodles out of a cupboard.

“We'll just rinse the noodles and then we can bring it over, ok?”, you look up at Bambam as you're getting the sieve. He turns to you and you want to laugh at how cute he looks, being shy like that.

“Sure”, he mutters, rubbing his neck with his hand. A habit, you noticed, he tends to do when he's feeling nervous. His eyes are on you.

“You really don't have to be afraid”, you say, straightening up again. The chattering of your parents can be heard from the living room and you're sure they're going to arrive in the kitchen soon, just to check on you and Bambam. Your mom would probably love to catch you in a compromising situation, love to tease you with it for the rest of your life, you the shy homebody who is finally having a friend over. A friend who is a boy at that.

“I just hope they're going to like me. I want them to trust me with you.” Bambam looks at you, his bright eyes suddenly seeming concerned. His eyebrows are drawn together in a light frown. Somehow, he seems like a little boy, not like the respectable and confident men he so often is in front of clerks and waiters.

You blush at his words though, looking at the floor for a second as if it could make the red on your cheeks go away. Then you quickly get the pot with the noodles, busying yourself with rinsing them.

“Anyways”, you mumble trying to change the subject. “My mom is gonna be delighted that I've finally brought someone over.”

Bambam lightly chuckles at that. “I'm sure you weren't that bad”, he says, knowing about your introverted nature. “Can I help you?”, he then offers, gesturing to the sieve.

You shake your head distractedly continuing you task. “It's fine”, you say, pouring the noodles into the sieve. The steam ascends and hits your face. You shut your eyes for a moment.

“You haven't seen me in middle school”, you say. “During summer vacation I didn't leave the house for weeks.”

And you're not lying. Actually, even now, you're not much better. That's what's so good about Bambam. His mere presence forces you out of your comfort zone, out of your shell, your little comfortable cocoon that you had wrapped yourself in.

Now, you're going to ice cream parlours, looking at the stars, going dancing... And to think that it all started with your parents sending you to a party with your sister. To think that this single event, this single party made you meet Bambam. To think that this single event changed the trajectory of your life so dramatically and immensely.

Life is funny sometimes.

“Juyeon, you in here?” Your mother bursts into the kitchen, full of energy even after working the entire day.

Your father is right behind her, his eyes spotting Bambam as soon as they enter the room.

He quickly scans him, taking in Bambam's blond hair, his luxurious clothes. “And you brought a handsome gentleman as well”, he appraises.

Bambam extends his hands.”Hello, Mrs and Mr Park”, he says. “It's a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Bambam.”

They shake hands, with your mom holding Bambam's hand a little longer and telling him to call them by her first name instead. Immediately, you can tell that they both like him.

As your father jokes about Bambam having to help him dye his already graying hair, you carry the pasta over to the dining room. As Bambam sees you, he quickly goes to help you, carrying the pot with the sauce.

“It smells delicious”, your mother remarks, inhaling deeply. She gives you a tender smile. Then she raises her eyebrows. “But where is your sister? I thought she had a boy over as well?”

You put the pot with the pasta down, staring at the wooden table. “They are in her room”, you say, putting on a smile. “Just putting away the books.”

Your mother frowns at your statement. “She didn't help you?”, she asks.

You shake your head. “You know how Suyeon is in the kitchen.”

Your conversation is interrupted when Suyeon and Mark finally come down the stairs, your sister greeting your parents.

“Hi”, she says, turning behind her to push Mark forward with great enthusiasm. “Mark – my parents, my parents – Mark.”

You cringe at that introduction.

Yet despite that cringeworthy introduction, your parents manage to smile at Mark.

**

When you're done eating, all the dishes are in the dishwasher, all the conversations have slowly ended, you and Bambam are sitting on the porch. You were able to see it in his smile: the way his lips crinkled when your dad told a joke, the way his eyes lit up during the dinner.

He enjoyed it. He enjoyed spending time with your family.

And it made you feel immensely happy.

“It was almost like a double date, wasn't it?”, Bambam asks, staring at you. The shimmer in his eyes is still there. The gleam. The sparkle. You can feel his affection, his adoration for your quirky parents. For you.

You look at your feet, hearing the wind whistling, feeling it swirling through your hair. Why are you feeling so emotional all of a sudden? Why did a simple dinner make you so emotional?

Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, you reach out blindly for Bambam's hand. His fingers find yours. Softly, gently. The warmth has become so familiar at this point.

“It was”, you mumble, caressing the back of his hand with your thumb. Why are you talking at all? Is it because there's something else you want to ask?

Do you want to stay a bit longer?

Or: Can you come back again soon?

When will I see you again.

Those kind of questions.

You inhale deeply and open your eyes. There is no use in what if's. In hypothetical scenarios. There's no use in imagining things in your head. If you want something to happen, you have to do something for it.

Cautiously, you start leaning in. A curious child, young and inexperienced, eager to explore, yet at the same time, scared and anxious.

You look at Bambam's lips. Pale pink. You wonder if they feel as soft as they look.

You feel his eyes on you, feel the way he, too, is leaning in closer and closer until his forehead is pressed against yours. His hair tickles you, but you barely notice it, too absorbed by

his bright eyes, his long lashes that leave feathery shadows on his cheeks.

Shut.

Your magical moment is interrupted by the sound of the front door being shut.

Surprised, you and Bambam jump apart, your hand leaving his, his forehead leaving yours. You look up at where the sound has come from and are faced with Mark.

Mark who looks at the scene of you and Bambam with obvious disdain, his eyebrows scrunched together. No words leave his mouth.

You scramble away from Bambam. “Mark”, you say, feeling bad. It hasn't been too long since you realized he likes you. He liked you. Present tense? Past tense? You're confused. Does he still like you?

Seeing you with Bambam like this, no matter if he likes or liked you, it would hurt him, wouldn't it?

You throw Bambam an apologetic glance and then stand up, straighten up and dust your skirt off. Show some manners, you remind yourself. Ettiquette. Don't be mean.

“I- I hope you liked the dinner”, you stutter towards Mark. Then you force a smile. You're pretty sure that it looks like a grimace, but you don't really care at this point. You flatten your dishevelled hair with one hand and extend the other.

Extending a hand. An offering of peace. An apology. Reaching out. Whatever it might be, you want to be on good terms with Mark. You're not good at conflicts, arguments, at being insulted, ignored or scolded. Yo look up at the person who now seems to be dating your sister.

Yet, again, you don't get the reaction you want. Letting out a quiet scoff, a sound so quiet you almost don't hear it, Mark turns away from you.

Turns away from your peace offering.

Turns away from what you've thought would be a new beginning.

He has rejected you, you realize, has rejected your attempt at reconciliation. And with that realization, you can only stare at him quietly as he walks to his car.

“Are you ok?”, Bambam finally asks. You turn to him with a sheepish look on your face, embarrassed all of a sudden. What did you think Mark would do? “You don't look too well.”

He stands up too and when he has straightened up, he comes closer, pressing his hand against your forehead. Memories of moments before appear in your head and you quickly grab his wrist.

“It's... It's ok”, you say, letting go after Bambam slowly retracts his hand. The wind seems stronger now. Colder. “I don't think- I don't think I was being a good host to Mark.”

It's something you made up. Again. Is lying to Bambam becoming a habit?

“I- I think it's better if you go now”, you suggest, pushing your thoughts aside. Pushing all thoughts aside.

Bambam looks at you. He's so perceptive. He probably knows it all already. But that's the thing. He doesn't call you out on it. Doesn't scold you, doesn't chastise you. Just smiles and opens his arms widely.

“Can you at least give me one more hug?”

You nod and then it happens. Bambam's arm enveloping you once again. Feeling so familiar. So sweet. So comforting. You relish in in all. The familiarity, the sweetness, the comfort. And somehow, all the guilt you've been feeling dissipates.

Almost magically.

**

When Bambam is gone, his car long disappeared in the darkness, you still stand outside for a moment, shivering. Goosebumps have spread on your arms. Little, tiny goosebumps that cover your skin. Are they just there cause it's cold or a they proof of the effect Bambam has on you, even when he's been gone? Shrugging, you turn around, deciding that the thought is not worth elaborating.

With Bambam being gone, there is one more thing you want to do. You've been wanting to do after your conversation with him.

You want to ask your parents about the trip to Thailand. The trip to Thailand with Bambam where you would meet his family. Where you... are going to meet his family?

Somehow, it still feels odd talking about the prospect of a shared vacation with him. Like something unreal. Something that is never going to become real.

You let out a sigh and enter the house with your key.

When you head back inside, you can hear your parents bickering in the living room. You put on a smile, pretending to be all that. Brazen. Fearless. Brave.

“Mom? Dad?”, you ask upon entering. At the sound of your voice they look up. “Can...” You hesitate for a moment, then stop completely, taking a deep breath. “Can I go to Thailand with Bambam?”

**

You pick up the phone after your conversation. Your cell phone, of course. But when you hold the device in your hands, you realize something.

It's the first time you are calling Bambam. You are making the first move. You are being proactive. Then you quickly press his contact.

He picks up immediately.

“They said yes”, you whisper into the phone, not bothering with a greeting. “They really said yes.”

“You asked them? That is so amazing.” Bambam lets out an embarrassed laugh. “I'm glad that they trust me.”

“Yeah”, you say, nodding even though he won't be able to see it. “They do. I mean, they do trust you.”

And it's true. Because your parents are always meeting new clients, new people, they have developed an eye for it. For judging a person's character solely based upon a few minute long conversation. It's amazing, really, and a skill that you would like to have as well.

“That's great news. I'm sure my mom is gonna be so happy to hear that and my grandparents, too... They will love you.”

You lick your lips then you let out a small uncertain sound. “Hm...”, you ponder, “Do they speak Korean?”

You get a bit nervous at the thought of having a language barrier, a thought that before hadn't crossed your mind, simply because Bambam is so fluent in Korean that most of the time it doesn't feel like talking to someone who isn't a native Korean speaker.

Picking up on your nervousness, he lets out a small giggle. “Don't worry about it, my mom knows Korean and my grandparents both speak English. If everything fails, you still have me to be your interpreter.”

You blush at his words, feeling a bit silly. Of course his family is educated and multilingual.

Still, the thought of speaking English makes you a bit nervous. You do study, a lot actually, but regarding English, you've always felt more comfortable in the confines of a classroom. You don't want to be forced tp start playing an involuntary game of charade with Bambam's family just because they are not able to understand your pitiful English.

“It makes me nervous”, you confess sheepishly. “They are not super strict, are they?”

“No, no”, Bambam bursts out. “Not at all. My mom is the sweetest woman in the world and my grandparents, too. Wait, they aren't women. I mean, my grandma is, but my grandpa isn't a woman...”

He stops for a second to catch his breath. Then you hear him laughing with embarrassment on the other side of the line. A sound, a mere laugh that makes your anxiousness fade away, that makes your fear seem silly. As if often does.

“Sorry, I'm just really happy right now. What I'm trying to say is, don't be afraid of them. They are really nice people. Beware of my cousins, though, especially the younger one.” His laugh turns into a chuckle. “He just turned ten and he's a rascal. He really is.”

You, too, laugh at that. “Oh, I have my experience with that”, you admit. “Suyeon used to play so many pranks on me when we were younger. She was really cheeky.”

“I can imagine that”, Bambam confesses. “But I bet you were quick to notice it and not fall into her trap, weren't you?”

“Hm... Sometimes”, you say. “But once she did something really serious and my parents scolded her so much. They still bring it up sometimes...”

And with that, you delve into an old childhood story, recounting the tale of how Suyeon made you climb onto a tall tree.

It's only when you're done conversing with Bambam, with your cellphone lying on your nightstand and your lights out, that you realize something. A realization that hits you.

Although Bambam talked lots and lots about his mom and his grandma and his grandpa and cousins, he never once mentioned someone else.

His father.

**Author's Note:**

> I always appreciate kudos or comments, but you can also buy me a coffee if you want to(check out my profile for my kofi page);;


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